


Please - - - - - - - - Responsibly

by enjayas



Series: Please Drink Responsibly [9]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Drama, Engagement, Established Relationship, Hunk and Shay, Lancelot - Freeform, M/M, Multiship, SHEITH - Freeform, Shiro is poly, Weddings, klance, more tags to come when the story gets going, rating will go up to E at some point, shallura - Freeform, the title is a spoiler
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-05-03 20:52:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 164,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14577426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enjayas/pseuds/enjayas
Summary: Where we left off in PMASR...On a whim, Keith rather unromantically asked Lance to marry him right after a threesome with their friend Shiro, who was still in their apartment and in the shower at the time. Though miffed that Keith beat him to punch when he’d been planning the perfect proposal for months, Lance was still reduced to tears and of course said yes. But wanting to have a proposal of his own, he convinced Keith that when it’s two men getting married, they both have to ask each other for it to be official. And so, Keith currently believes that he and Lance arepre-engaged. Good thing Lance has a ring and is ready to use it!Shiro and Keith have been getting closer too as a result of their bedroom adventures, and it’s getting a little dangerously flirty over at Shiro’s gym. But there’s a clear set of rules for what they’re allowed to do together and Shiro is nothing if not respectful of that.All the while, Lotor lurks in the background. After calling off a mission to kidnap Lance at the last second, Lotor’s realized that if he wants another shot with his Garrison Boy, then Lance has to come to him on his own. And he’s been working on a plan to make that happen...





	1. The Plan

**Author's Note:**

> I'M BACK!!! Sorry I didn't publish anything for a while... Been working on a bang fic and going back to work while my health was still questionable was... rough to say the least. But I'm finally feeling much better and am ready to churn out some chapters!
> 
> Questions about the tags? Send them to **@enjayas_writes** on Twitter or **@enjayas** on Tumblr!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lotor's been busy...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consider this is more of a prologue than a chapter 1...

  


  


_“Breaking news from earlier today…”_

 

A local news story played on TV screens across the county. 

 

_“An announcement was made at an event held at ground zero of the [K.U.R.O.N] project, the privately-owned, non-profit hospital and research facility scheduled to open in the western end of downtown early next year.”_

 

The camera panned to a building under heavy construction. Two men in suits shook hands on concrete steps that would eventually lead to the building’s main entrance, while a third figure, tall and dressed mostly in black but for a silver strip of fabric that banded his hat, hung back behind them. Lustrous, white hair spilled well past his shoulders, strands of it dancing elegantly in the light breeze of the day. His equally flowing fashion choices contrasted starkly with those of his business partners.

 

_“It appears that an anonymous donor has come forward for the first time claiming to be the mastermind and primary benefactor behind this controversial project.”_

 

This mysterious third man, looking rather like a rockstar that didn’t want to be recognized with his dark shades and fashionable, wide-brimmed fedora that partially obscured his face, stepped forward to shake hands with the other two men. They held the gesture for an extended moment, smiling and posing for the flashing cameras and abundance of applause.

 

_“With reports circulating that all services at this facility will be provided free of charge, we go now to a clip from our roving reporter, Amy May, who was live on the scene earlier today.”_

 

“Good morning, everyone! It’s a very exciting day here in the Komar District where an anonymous benefactor, known only by the initials _L. S. D._ has made a public appearance for the first time,” the avid, young reporter spoke. “Here he comes now!”

The reporter fought her way through a crowd of interviewers and journalists to get to the front as the man in question, garnering a fair share of impressed murmurs for his high fashion boots, descended the stairs.

“Mister LSD, can you comment on your involvement in this project?”

A microphone was thrust in the face of the statuesque, anonymous man who was soaking up the limelight. 

“Of course.” The dark sunglasses that helped conceal his identity did nothing to eclipse his charisma. “This project has been a long-time vision of mine, and we’ve cleared some serious hurdles to get here.” A rich British accent flowed from his mouth, charming the crowd before him.

“And what of the financials, are the rumors true?” The reporter quickly snuck in another question.

“Well, Ms…” 

“May from VLD 6 news.” She spoke quickly into the mic then turned it back to him.

“Well, Ms. May, a trust has been set up to ensure that none who are treated here will ever owe a dime,” he announced then turned to address the crowd more broadly. “Our hope is that this project will act as an asset and revitalization for this community for many years to come.”

“What made you decide to come forward today?” Ms. May continued, eager to keep his attention for her channel's viewers.

The man smirked, rather liking the question.

“Visibility, primarily. To garner a broader audience for our project and capture... certain sectors of the public’s attention.” He chose his words carefully and smiled into the camera.

“Is it true you’re going to be working with Galaxy Garrison?” Another reporter from the crowd shouted, and the smile vanished from the anonymous man’s face.

“We are open to working with them, yes,” he answered, stone-faced, after a pause. A cacophony of questions erupted from the crowd, none of which were intelligible. The man backed away apologetically. “I’m sorry, I really have to save some for the press conference.”

 

 

On the other side of town, in a bedroom-turned-conference room of a luxurious penthouse suite forty-four floors in the sky, four generals watched their leader on the screen.

“LSD? Really?” A playful voice snickered. She kicked her feet onto the long table and swiveled her chair to look at her colleagues. "He can't be serious."

“I’m just impressed he’s actually putting his name on this thing,” the owner of a gruffer voice said while she peeled the skin from an apple with her knife.

“It’s just his initials. Hardly the same as putting his name on it,” the no-nonsense, first-in-command pointed out from where she sat near the head of the table, upright with her arms folded.

“Still, he really knows how to sell it.” The gruff one threw a spiraling string of apple peel in the direction of the trash can and missed completely. “Narti, a little help?” She requested while taking a hearty bite. A fourth general, with a black cat curled up in her lap, leaned over to pick up the peel and dropped it into the nearby waste basket then resumed watching with the others.

Unbeknownst to the four in the room, a fifth person had silently entered and stood behind them, watching their viewing party.

_“We’ll be back for more after the break. Stay tun-”_

The screen flashed off.

“That's quite enough of that,” a stern, commanding voice said and all eyes turned to stare at the man from the TV, who was now standing in the doorway. “When the cat’s away, the mice will play, it seems,” he admonished mildly.

“L-Lotor…” The first-in-command stood and saluted with a fist to her chest. The others scrambled to do the same. “Welcome back,” she said, eying their leader who was dressed in the same get-up as he’d worn on the screen, sans sunglasses.

“Thank you, Acxa.” He swept his oversized poncho over one shoulder and shook his hair free from his hat. Setting it down on the table, he took his regular seat at the head of the it.

“Seems like it went well enough,” Acxa remarked. 

“Indeed it did, however…” Lotor waved the topic away with his hand. “I believe we've more important matters to discuss.”

A computer was connected and a picture of a boy in blue appeared on the monitor that had previously been playing the news. The ambiance of the room shifted to that of an important business meeting as the group turned their attention to their leader and what was on the screen. 

“Do you think he was watching?” The playful one asked and earned herself a sharp eye from Acxa for it.

“Irrelevant, Ezor. Those projects are _not_ related,” Lotor stated firmly and shifted the topic to the other ‘project’ they were all there to discuss.

“Proximity. Pressure. Persistence.” Lotor tapped his first, second, and third finger in succession on the polished-to-the-point-of-reflection mahogany as he enumerated. “As we've discussed, these are three of the four cornerstones of this mission.”

“Mission...” His first-in-command muttered under her breath. “And what, pray tell, is the fourth?”

The leader smiled. “Let’s worry about one and two first, shall we?”

“Lotor, I don't see why were we doing this now when there's other things to be preparing for,” Acxa argued. She was the only one brave enough to push back on Lotor’s plans. “Zarkon’s not going to take your little announcement today lying down. Can't it wait until after-”

“No.” He cut her off sharply, making the others sit up straighter. “It cannot. We’re beginning it now.” An edge appeared in his otherwise calm and composed voice. “I trust it won’t impact your other duties?” He regained control of his tone and stared his first-in-command down until she acquiesced her concerns.

“Very good, then. Acxa, you're on point for-”

“Applying pressure to the target, right,” she said, obedient but not so much so as to hide her disgruntlement.

“Zethrid and Narti, you will work with me on crafting an opportunity for proximity.” Lotor grinned at her. “And Ezor-” He stopped. His usually most-jovial of the bunch appeared uncharacteristically unsettled. He looked at her questioningly.

“I don't get it…” Her brow creased with a mix of concern and confusion. “If you care about Lance, then why are you trying to mess with him or whatever?”

“Oh, Ezor…” Lotor smiled sweetly at the question. “I'm not going to do anything to Lance.” With a self-satisfied chuckle, he pressed a button on his keyboard and a picture of a different boy appeared on the screen they were clustered around. “ _This_ is our target now.” 

Several pairs of eyes drifted over a dark-haired boy dressed in red with a gym bag slung over his shoulder.

“Who’s that?” Ezor asked, squinting with partial recognition of the man in the picture.

“The boyfriend,” Acxa answered. She caught on with an amused smirk and cast a mildly impressed look at her leader.

“Ohhhhh…” Ezor nodded. “Wait, we’re going after his boyfriend now?” She still didn’t get it. Narti and Zethrid cocked their heads skeptically too.

“He's going to try to drive them apart,” Acxa explained.

“Please, I’m doing nothing of the sort,” Lotor smiled pleasantly at the accusation. “I’m merely going to apply pressure in the right places and let the pieces fall where they may.” He waved his hands as if he’d performed a magic trick.

Narti typed something on her phone and showed it to Ezor.

“Right? Pretty damn devious.” Ezor giggled with her in agreement

“Hmph. Seems like it's be easier to just take him out.” Zethrid pounded a fist into her palm.

“And what if it doesn’t work? What's your time box on this?” Acxa came back around to skepticism. 

“Your distaste for this mission is apparent and noted, Acxa, but mark my words, this _will_ work,” Lotor snapped back. “I'll remind you that all of this-” He stood and cast his arms out, gesturing at the opulent suite complete with skyline view. “And the cushy lives you lead thanks to _me_ are proof that my plans usually do. Now if there are no further points of discussion.”

“Payment,” Acxa said boldly and there was an audible gasp from Ezor. “This is beyond the scope of our agreement.”

“You will have it in droves.” Lotor waved his hand as though it were no issue.

With that, she backed off and said nothing further for as the meeting concluded. Lotor flipped back to the picture of the boy in blue while his generals departed. Leaning back in his chair, he tiredly rubbed his brow. The displaced cat that had been in Narti’s lap wandered along the table, leaving hot paw prints in its surface, and sat expectantly in front of Lotor.

“This is my last chance, Kova,” he whispered and gently rubbed behind the cat’s ears.

Narti, the last one out of the room, overheard her leader's sighed words and saw his shoulders sag. She tilted her head with sympathy before quietly shutting the door.

 

 

The disdain Acxa had shown to the assignment in the meeting didn’t hold a candle to how she behaved once outside the suite. Absolutely fuming, she stomped down the hall, pushing past Ezor and Narti.

“Jeez, somebody's pissy,” Ezor spat, miffed at being unceremoniously shoved.

“This whole thing is a waste of our time,” Acxa growled.

“Yeah, but it sure makes Lotor happy,” Ezor shrugged.

“And when Lotor’s happy, our lives are a lot easier,” Zethrid chimed in. Narti nodded in agreement.

“Plus I'm kind of curious to actually meet this guy that he’s so hung up on.” Ezor smiled optimistically as they continued walking.

Acxa scowled. “There's no way he's going to live up to the memory. Lotor’s setting himself up for a let-down.”

Ezor hummed thoughtfully. She had a point. “Hey, did anyone ever tell him about the ring?” She asked.

They all stopped and looked at each other. No one had wanted to incur that wrath. Finally, Narti raised her hand.

“Great…” Acxa griped, rubbing her forehead. 

“No wonder he's antsy,” Zethrid chuckled. “Clock’s ticking.”

“Wow! The bravest of us all!” Ezor pretended to bow-down to Narti.

“Let's just get it over with. The sooner this thing fails, the sooner we can get back to business that actually matters.” The first-in-command sighed with irritation.

“Speaking of business, we have a drop tonight. Ezor, you up for it?” Zethrid asked.

The usually playful general slumped boredly, and muttered, “Sure…”

“Hey, at least he's giving us our pick of the beemers.” Zethrid swung a ring of car keys around her finger and that put a smile back on her partner-in-crime’s face. “Acxa, you joining? We could use a police escort.”

“I'm out. You heard Lotor, I’m on ‘ _pressure cooker_ ’ duty,” she sneered at her obligation and stalked off.

The other three watched her go. Narti showed her phone to Ezor again.

“You’re totally right,” she snickered. “She really does have a stick up her ass.”

  


  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the chapter 1~  
> Bit of a bold move to not even have your main ship appear in the first chapter of your fic, but they’ll be back strong in the next one. A return to the PRD roots, I promise! ( _hint hint_ Lance sings, Keith gets drunk)
> 
> Also, did I just end a chapter on a joke? That might be a first for me… Not that it makes up for the rest of that. *sweats*
> 
>  
> 
>  **ART!**  
>  Check out some chapter 1[ art](https://enjayas.tumblr.com/post/173751715839/im-back-finally-a-new-fic-in-the-pdr-verse). 'The Man with a Plan' by renstxne!


	2. The Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #### Please - - - **[a]** \- - - - Responsibly
> 
> The whole Voltron crew goes out to celebrate Hunk and Shay's engagement. Hunk and Lance talk wedding/engagement plans, and in a return to the PDR roots, Lance sings and Keith gets drunk! 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It starts a little rough but then you’re gonna get crushed by fluff.
> 
> Also, Hunk/Lance bromance... Bro-fluff? Is that a thing? Because there's a lot of it in this chapter.
> 
> Thanks to LostInTranslation/TheOneMaye for the Spanish translations! :3 <3

  


  


Keith burst through the front door of the apartment he and Lance called home and used every ounce of restraint he had to not slam it shut behind him. Startled by the abrupt entry, Lance and Red, their lump of a pup chocolate lab, both lifted their heads from where they lounged on the couch to watch Keith indignantly kick off his shoes and tear his jacket from his body. Their eyes followed him as he sauntered over to the kitchen counter and flung his jacket down on the table next to it. He unceremoniously dropped his keyring in the dish where they stored their car keys and various knick-knacks next.

“Babe? What’s wrong?” Lance inquired of his visibly shaken boyfriend. 

Keith hesitated then looked at him, forlorn.

“I got another ticket.” He slammed the yellow slip of paper down on the counter.

“Again? That’s the third one this month!” Lance scrambled off the couch and came to his side. Keith folded his arms while Lance examined the ticket.

 _Stop Sign Violation._ Lance read the words then looked up at Keith.

“I swear I stopped.” Keith was adamant.

“Yeah, but you know you gotta stop before the-”

“I DID STOP BEFORE THE LINE!” Keith’s shoulders heaved with fury.

“Okay… Okay...” Lance softened his tone and gently touched his boyfriend's elbows. “But you know how sometimes when you’re in a rush-”

“Lance, I _wasn’t_ rushing!” Keith’s eyes pleaded with him on the edge of tears.

“Keith, hey... Come here.” Lance opened his arms and pulled him into a tight hug. Keith happily accepted and hugged him back fiercely. “It’s just a ticket, babe. Don’t worry about it, okay? Shit happens.” Lance held him, tracing gentle patterns between his shoulder blades until he felt some of the tension leave Keith’s body. He gave him one more tight squeeze then pulled back to smile at him encouragingly. “I’ll drive us to Hunk and Shay’s thing tonight, and you can just do traffic school again or something.” Keith’s shoulders sagged at the suggestion. “Look, let’s not worry about this right now, okay? How’s job hunting going?” Lance kissed his forehead and tried to change the subject. “Did you find any leads today?”

After the sour look Keith shot him, Lance realized he should have picked a less contentious topic.

“No. I didn’t.” He snatched the ticket out of Lance’s hand and stormed into the bedroom.

“Keith, hey-” Lance frowned watching him go and flinched when the bedroom door slammed shut. He sighed and leaned against the counter, rubbing his head. After a brief stint in tech support, Keith was unemployed again and taking it pretty hard. Lance didn’t want to add to it by taking the car away from him as well, but Keith was on track to get his license revoked. The cost of the tickets was starting to add up too.

Concerned by the commotion, Red wandered over to him and wagged her tail, unsure. Lance smiled at her and silently rubbed her ears, giving Keith another minute to cool down. Then, with a heavy sigh, he devotedly followed after his boyfriend. 

“Keith, babe? Can I come in?” He knocked on the door. It was somewhat rhetorical; He knew Keith wouldn’t answer.

Lance pushed the door open to find Keith curled up half-fetally, hugging his elbows and glaring at the wall. He balled up tighter when Lance stopped beside the bed.

“I keep fucking up…” Keith whispered quietly, shoulders turning in. 

Though Keith couldn’t see it, Lance wore a smile laced with sympathy. He knew better than to ever admit it to him, but Lance found pouty, pissed-off Keith to be stupidly cute. He climbed onto the bed and cozied up next to his sulky boyfriend.

“Hey...” Lance swept Keith’s hair out of the way to kiss the back of his neck. “You know I’ll love you no matter how many speeding tickets you get, right?”

Keith’s frame shook with a chuckle or sob - Lance couldn’t tell which.

“A few more and you can be my outlaw boyfriend.”

That earned a chuckle.

“God… ” Keith sighed and let his tightly held shoulders finally relax. “I’m sorry I yelled.” He cast an apologetic look over his shoulder and found Lance’s hand with his own. “And I’m- I’m gonna look for a job tomorrow,” he promised, squeezing Lance’s fingers. “I was just working on something else today.”

“Yeah?” Lance asked as he stroked Keith’s hair, pleasantly surprised that something had piqued his interest. “Whatcha been working on?”

“I can’t tell you.” An inkling of mischief returned to Keith’s voice.

“Oh?” Lance probed, bringing his fingers to Keith’s side and threatening to tickle if he didn’t share with the class.

“No, really.” Keith giggled and grasped at Lance’s hands. He turned over just enough to look at him. “It’s kind of a surprise. For you.” His thumb brushed across Lance’s knuckles. 

Lance beamed at him.

“Well, you already asked me to marry you…” He brought Keith’s hand to his lips and kept going up his arm. “What else could you possibly be planning?” 

“You’ll see.” Keith smiled innocently.

Spanish. Keith had been learning Spanish. For a few weeks now. He’d registered for an online class and everything. They were planning a trip to visit Lance’s family around the holidays. Lance had promised that he was going to do his half of the proposal by then, which meant... Keith would be meeting all of Lance’s relatives - for the first time ever - as his fiancé. To say he was nervous as hell about it was the understatement of the century. Having not known a family of his own, Keith was _terrified_ and had no idea what to expect. He wanted to impress, or at the very least, look like he was making an effort. But he was also saving it as a surprise, figuring Lance would absolutely lose his mind if he learned a few dirty phrases. He might have started with those first.

“Hey, we have to get ready soon.” Lance nudged him. The whole crew was getting together that night to celebrate Hunk and Shay’s recent engagement. Even Pidge’s brother, Matt, was supposedly making an appearance. Keith grunted a refusal and pulled Lance’s arm around him again. He wanted more cuddles first. 

Snickering at his boyfriend’s special brand of affection, Lance scooted closer and hit the cuddle equivalent of the snooze button. He nestled his head next to Keith’s then made a very confused and perturbed sound. Something was poking him in the neck. Lance sat up halfway and picked a small, brown sphere off the side of his neck.

“What the hell is this?” Blinking with confusion, Lance held the mysterious object out before the both of them. Keith tilted his head against the mattress at it.

“That appears to be a CoCo Puff, Detective McClain,” he said.

“W-What the fuck is it doing in the bed?!” Lance cried. “Keith...” He turned to the other man and brought the offending puff between their faces with a look that demanded answers. “Have you been eating cereal in the bed again?”

Keith made a noise that implied he didn’t know.

“Oh, you’re in trouble now…” Lance threatened playfully and climbed on top of him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Keith verbally committed to the role but wore the guiltiest smirk Lance had ever seen in his life.

“Really, you deny it, Kogane? When I’m holding the evidence right here?” He held said evidence inches from Keith’s face.

Keith looked from the puff to Lance’s face and back to the puff again. Then, with the cheekiest smile, he lifted his head and plucked the piece of cereal from between Lance’s fingers with his tongue.

“What evidence?” He chewed loudly.

“Y-You did not just-” Lance stammered, appalled.

Keith opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue to show him that yes, yes he had.

Lance’s face landed in one of his hands. “I can’t believe I’m gonna marry you,” he grumbled.

“Was that my proposal?” Keith smirked and pulled at Lance’s shirt in a way that Lance knew meant his boyfriend wanted to be kissed.

“No, you’ll know when it is. And don’t even think about it! Not after you just ate _garbage!_ ” 

Keith’s expectant expression didn’t change. Neither did the tension being applied to Lance’s shirt.

“A lifetime of stale CoCo Puff kisses... I can hardly wait,” Lance lamented dramatically and then kissed him anyways.

 

 

Within the hour, they were both smartly dressed and nearly ready to hit the clubs. Keith had pulled out one of his few button down shirts from the back of the closet and borrowed one of Lance’s jackets since he didn’t have his own.

“We gotta get you one of your own before the wedding,” Lance said, checking that it fit Keith’s frame properly in front of the bathroom mirror.

“Our wedding?” Keith asked slyly, trying to trick Lance into acknowledging it.

“Hunk and Shay’s,” Lance clarified. But yes, theirs too… Lance was ready to splurge for full tuxedos, if Keith would let him.

“I feel like I'm going to a job interview…” Keith tugged uncomfortably at one of the sleeves and picked at the tight collar, not used to such formal attire. He managed to find a smile though when Lance whistled at him in the mirror. 

Lance gently offered to drive and Keith didn’t protest. After snatching up his keys, Lance gave Red one more _‘who’s a good girl’_ filled rub down then lint rolled her hair off his dress pants on the way out the door.

They stopped to pick up Pidge and her girlfriend on the way. A carpool had been arranged since the both of them had expressed that they had every intention of following in heyday Lance’s footsteps and getting as close to blackout drunk as they could for the occasion.

Pidge and Maria lived in what was formerly Lance and Hunk’s college apartment. Pidge had taken Lance’s room one summer, saving Hunk from rooming with a rando while Lance had been away for an internship. And after that, she’d never really left... Lance had moved in with Keith when he’d come home, and once Hunk and Shay had gotten serious enough to find their own place, Pidge had wasted no time in cohabitating with her partner. It was just more efficient that way, she’d insisted, and no one had argued with her. According to Hunk, Maria practically lived there anyways.

The girls had also recently become the proud parents of a mysterious, reptilian creature and were itching to show him off to their friends. Lance parked by the curb so they could stop inside and check out Pidge’s new pet. Smiling at the familiar apartment building and together with Keith, Lance walked up the path to his old pad.

“So what is it?” Keith asked on the way up the steps.

“I don’t know… Pidge was vague with details. It’s weird knocking here,” Lance remarked at the door to his old place.

“Not for me,” Keith said and rapped on the wood. He took Lance’s hand while they waited. The excited padding of feet could be heard behind the door right before it was ripped open.

“Hey Keith! Hey Lance!” A short, bubbly girl with shoulder-length, bright green hair answered. She was dressed in form-fitting jeans, a lacy, white crop top, and dark boots that were meant for a night out. “KATIE!” She shouted at the top of her lungs, making her visitors flinch. Only Maria was allowed to call Pidge Katie. “THEY’RE HERE! BRING HIM OUT!” She ushered them into the living room then disappeared into Lance’s old room to presumably help Pidge with their new pet.

Keith and Lance were left alone to glance around an apartment full of memories. Keith sighed fondly, remembering all the awkward game nights it had hosted when he was still pining over a presumed-straight and totally oblivious Lance. Even the faded, grey couch that they had kissed on for the first time was still there. Well, the first time they’d both remembered it anyways. Keith shook his head remembering that fiasco; It felt like ancient history. If someone had told him back then that he would one day be standing in the same room engaged to that impossibly hopeless crush, well, he probably would have punched them in the face for it. He glanced sideways at Lance, who looked equally lost in thought, and wondered if he was experiencing similar nostalgia.

“Psst, hey…” Lance leaned over so his low voice could be heard. “Remember when we fucked on that countertop?”

Keith swallowed a laugh and wondered why he’d expected anything different.

“I remember when _I_ fucked you on that countertop,” he smirked back.

“Oh ho, Mister Kogane.” Lance flicked his eyebrows and gently knocked him with his hip.

“Guys, I want you to meet someone!” Pidge proclaimed and proudly walked out of her room in a custom-tailored tux with something long and green draped around her shoulders. “Check it out!” She excitedly shoved the head of what appeared to be a rather sizeable snake in Keith and Lance’s direction.

“Jesus christ!” Lance recoiled and jumped behind Keith. “When you said snake I thought you meant like...” He make a tiny gesture with his fingers. “Not a fucking anaconda! Where did you get that thing?”

“ _His name_ is Bi-Boh-Bi,” Pidge corrected.

“B-Bi… Boh…” Lance stuttered.

“Bi-Boh-Bi.” Maria helped him. “And he is our son.” She kissed the snake on the nose.

Lance gaped in horror behind an unflinching Keith.

“So... He’s a snake?” Keith asked.

“He’s a green tree python. They’re a species indigenous to New Guinea, Indonesia, and some parts of Australia. But this little guy came from our very own Galaxy Garrison,” Pidge explained. 

“Some freshman got busted keeping him in the dorms and had to find a new home for him fast,” Maria continued. 

“And isn’t he just the cutest little snake that ever slithered?” Pidge cooed and affectionately rubbed her face against the snake’s body, making Lance shudder.

“Uh… Why is he lumpy?” Keith asked, eyeing a bulbus region about a half foot down from its head.

“Oh, he ate,” Maria said, matter-of-factly.

Lance paled and looked like he was going to be sick.

“Okay. Just- Just put him back. We’re already late.” Lance shooed the creature away with his hand.

Pidge shrugged and carried Bi-Boh-Bi back into her bedroom while telling him what a good boy he was.

“You scared of snakes?” Keith directed the question over his shoulder at a shaky Lance.

“What? N-No. That one’s just... really big.” He eyed his old room warily.

Keith snickered to himself and let Lance keep his dignity.

 

 

Pidge and Maria piled into the back of Blue, Lance’s old and very much on its last legs Toyota Corolla. Keith rode shotgun while Lance drove them downtown. 

“Save it for the club, you two. No making out back there!” Lance peered in the rearview mirror and teased the cuddling couple in the backseat, who were notorious for excessive PDA. “And now some tunes to get us in the clubbing mood...” Lance smirked and a few clicks on his phone later an obnoxious remix of _Fergalicious_ blared from Blue’s stereo.

Keith balked at the choice and gave his boyfriend an unimpressed side-eye.

“We really need to talk about your taste in music…” He groused but couldn’t stop himself from snorting with laughter when Lance started replacing every instance of the song’s title with _‘Lance-alicious’_. And so, with something between amusement and a grimace on his face, Keith suffered through a mildly grating rendition of the first half of the song, which apparently everyone else in the car knew by heart.

“Break it down with me, backseat!” Lance cried then pointed at himself. “Lance-alicious def-” 

He pointed over his shoulder at Pidge next.

“Pidge-alicious def-” She sang.

Then at the other girl in the backseat.

“Mari-alicious def-”

They all pointed expectantly at Keith.

“K-Keith-alicious?” Keith’s voice almost squeaked and not on the beat.

“ _Keith-alicious: definition make them boys go crazy._ ” Lance finished the line for him and mimed like his heart was beating out of his chest. 

“ _They always claim to know him.  
Comin' to him, callin' him spacey._ ” 

_“He’s K to the E I T, the H, the E  
And can't no other baby put it down like he.”_

Lance continued to serenade his increasingly flustered boyfriend who wasn’t quite sure what was happening, altering the lyrics on the fly to make them about him. It had Pidge and Maria cracking up on the back seat.

_“Keith-alicious."_ Lance snapped his finger.  


_"His body stay vicious._  
_He be up in the gym just working on his fitness._  
_He's my witness. I put that boy on rock, rock._  
_And I’ll be lining down the block just to watch what he got._ ” 

Lance’s eyes gave Keith the up and down and not a subtle one.

“ _So delicious._ ” He finished the verse with a roll of his lips.

“K-Keep your eyes on the road.” A marginally breathless Keith admonished while fighting to keep the smile off his face. 

“I’d rather keep them on you.” Lance flicked his eyebrows then did what he was told and went back to driving and singing along with Pidge and Maria.

Keith found himself momentarily stunned in the passenger seat. He didn’t know how Lance still managed to make his cheeks burn and something in his chest flutter after three years of dating, but he somehow did. With a happy huff of air, Lance’s terrible taste in music was forgiven.

Beyonce came on next.

“Oh shit!” Lance cried and cranked the volume. “This one’s for you, Keith.”

Keith loosely recognized the intro lick but didn’t understand what Lance was getting at.

“ _All the single ladies, all the single ladies,_ ” Lance sang along.

Keith raised his eyebrows.

“Lance…”

“ _All the single ladies, all the single ladies._ ” Lance shook his shoulders to the music and shot Keith a sassy look. 

“Lance, you are not a single lady,” Keith reminded him.

Pidge and Maria joined him in singing the intro. 

“Neither are you two!” Keith yelled into the backseat trying to overpower their volume, which only made the three of them scream the words louder. They fell out of sync with the music and dissolved into fits of giggles during the verse. Keith shook his head and laughed along with them.

Lance glanced at him with mischief in his eyes as the verse came to a close. 

“Lance… Don’t you dare,” Keith warned, suddenly understanding why this song was for him.

“ _IF YOU LIKED IT, THEN YOU SHOULDA PUT A RING ON IT!_ ” Lance belted out at the top of his lungs. 

Keith sighed heavily and sank in the passenger seat. He’d proposed without a ring and Lance was never going to let him forget it.

“Lance I didn’t know you wanted-”

“ _IF YOU LIKED IT, THEN YOU SHOULDA PUT A RING ON IT!_ ” 

“I’M LITERALLY GOING TO PUT A RING ON IT!” Keith cried in vain.

“ _Don’t be mad when you see that he want it!_ ” Lance held up his index finger.

“ _CUZ IF YOU LIKED IT, THEN YOU SHOULDA PUT A RING ON IT!_ ” Pidge and Maria joined in on roasting Keith from the back seat.

“Lance… We. Are. _Engaged._ ” Keith insisted.

“ _Pre_ -engaged,” Lance corrected smugly and then jumped into the chorus of _Oh Oh Oh_ s, waving his left hand like he was Queen B, herself.

Keith sighed and let them carry on. He wasn’t winning this one. It had taken exactly one conversation with Pidge for Keith to wise up that pre-engagement wasn’t actually a thing same-sex couples did. But he’d also caught on that having his own proposal was important to Lance and he wasn’t about to take that away from him. He just hoped Lance didn’t go _too_ crazy with it. 

From the passenger seat, Keith watched his ridiculous boyfriend singing and dancing happily to the music and felt his mouth lifting upwards. He turned away to look out the window, not wanting to give Lance the satisfaction of his grin because technicalities aside, yes, they were engaged. It wasn’t something Keith had ever thought he’d wanted, but somehow the idiot behind the steering wheel had got him. Got him real good.

Lance put his hand on Keith’s knee as the song ended and squeezed.

“I love you, babe.” He thanked his patient boyfriend for tolerating his antics with his eyes.

Keith’s features went soft and his hand landed on top of Lance’s. 

“I love you too, you big goof.”

 

 

The four of them rolled up to the club ‘lookin’ like a million bucks’ as Lance kept saying. He complimented Pidge’s undercut about five times between handing his car over to the valet and getting to the door. He even floated the idea that Keith get one. 

“Not a chance,” Keith said, protectively covering his mullet.

They had a reservation and were able to skip the line that wound around the block. From a quick survey of the people waiting to get in, Keith already didn’t like the look of the crowd. He stayed close to Lance and Pidge as they showed their IDs to a bouncer and moved inside. 

The club itself was dimly lit and loud, but not unbearably crowded yet as it was on the earlier end of the night. There was a dense clustering of well-dressed bodies and high-heeled shoes around the main bar and a scattering of people on the bigger of two dance floors, which could be overlooked by several balconies that corresponded to levels of VIP status. Laboring smoke machines gave the space a certain ambiance and made it difficult to see across the venue. It didn’t take long to lose Pidge and Maria, who took off Naruto running into a particularly foggy patch while screaming, “check point: smokescreen” at each other.

“Wow, this is not my scene,” Keith said, uncomfortable from the second they walked in the door.

“It’s okay, babe. Think of it like a gay club but... straight.” Lance tried to encourage him.

“ _Very_ straight.” Keith hugged himself, eyeing the bros and hoes scene that surrounded them. 

“It’s only for one night. Besides, maybe we can scandalize a few people of the heterosexual persuasion while we’re here.” Lance smirked, letting his hand slide down Keith's back and over his ass. That pulled a smile out of Keith. “Come on, help me find Hunk.” Lance put his arm around him and guided him through the crowds in search of their friends.

He spied them at a cordoned off area in the back by a booth that had decent access to the dancefloor. Hunk and Shay were pouring champagne while an extremely dapper looking Shiro and Allura sat in the deepest part of the round booth.

“Hey!” Lance cried with his arms outstretched for Hunk when they spotted each other.

“Hey! You guys made it!” Hunk pulled Lance into an enthusiastic bro hug while a beaming Shay stood at his side.

“Of course we did! Wouldn’t miss it for the world!” Lance cried as more hugs were exchanged. He made a fuss of how pretty Shay looked in her dress and the ‘bride-to-be’ sash that draped across the front of it. She held a bouquet of flowers that Allura had given her and held out her hand to show him the rock Hunk had bought her.

“Damn, Hunk!” Lance complimented. His best friend chuckled shyly then turned to Keith.

“So Keith, how’s work at the ol’ call center?” Hunk greeted him with a friendly slap on the back.

“What?” Keith held his hand to his ear, unable to hear him properly in the loud club while Lance gesticulated wildly behind him and mouthed ‘DO NO ASK HIM ABOUT WORK’.

“Uh, I was asking about the gym!” Hunk did his best to salvage the situation. “How are your workouts going these days, buddy?”

“Uh, good I guess…” Keith tilted his head at the odd question.

“Glad to hear it! Here, have some champagne!” With an awkward laugh, Hunk thrust a glass into Keith’s hand. Lance sent Keith off with glasses for Allura and Shiro so he could chat with Hunk.

“I take it Keith’s out of work again?” Hunk said once he was out of earshot.

“Yeah,” Lance sighed heavily. “He got fired the other week. Something about too many customer complaints. I dunno, man… He can’t catch a break lately.” Lance’s brow creased with sympathy as his eyes chased after Keith. “Anyways, look at you! You sure clean up nice.” Lance flicked Hunk’s matching ‘husband-to-be’ sash. “And a homeowner to boot. Who said you were allowed to be the responsible one?” Lance slugged him on the shoulder. 

“Yeah… We closed last week!” Hunk laughed bashfully but beamed with pride. “But you know, part of the down payment was an early wedding gift from my folks, so that helped a lot.”

“Still man, after buying a ring too... Congrats.” Lance raised his glass to him.

“How about you guys? You popped the question yet?”

“Not yet, but check this out. Shay, you too.” Lance beckoned her over and, after making sure Keith wasn’t looking, pulled a small, velvet box out of his jacket pocket. He carefully opened it to show them the blue and red banded ring.

“Oh, shit…” Hunk laughed heartily. “You are not messing around!”

“Wow, it’s beautiful! Oh, Lance, he’s gonna love it.” Shay beamed at him. “So, is tonight the night?” She asked excitedly.

“No, no, no.” Lance waved his hand. “Tonight’s your night. But soon… I might have a little something planned.” His eyes glimmered.

“Tell me.” Shay clasped her hands and leaned in while Lance animatedly described a secluded, oceanside cliff with a pristine view blue water that he had picked out. He was going to do it at sunset and then drink champagne and dance with Keith by the beach until they could see the stars. It was a bit of a drive, and he still had to think of a way to trick Keith into coming with him, but it would be worth it.

Hunk watched his fiancé grow misty-eyed and gleeful listening to Lance’s plan. She was hanging on his every word.

“Uh, hey, buddy? Yeah… You’re kinda upstaging me here. Just little bit,” he joked, putting his arm around Shay.

“Sorry… You know me. Big sappy romantic,” Lance laughed and snuck another wistful look at Keith. The waiting was killing him. But so were his nerves and the thousand different ways Keith might react. Keith had said he didn’t want anything public, but what if he laughed or thought the whole thing was cheesy? He wasn’t exactly the romantic type, not in the same way Lance was, at least. And Lance still had no idea if he was going to like the ring or just find it to be a nuisance. Lance really, _really_ wanted him to like it.

Hunk recognized the unease on his friend’s face and slung an arm over his shoulders.

“I feel ya, buddy... On a scale of one to ten, where are your nerves at?” He asked. 

“Eleven,” Lance looked at him terrified then drowned his worries in a generous gulp of champagne.

“Oh, please. He’s going to say yes,” Shay reminded him.

“Even then, honey…” Hunk shook his head. “I knew you were going to say yes, but that didn’t stop me from almost puking like three times beforehand. Buddy, have some mouthwash handy. You might need it.” He pointed at Lance as he delivered the tip. “And practice what you’re gonna say at least hundred times because your heart’s gonna be beating so fast that you’re barely gonna be able to talk.” Lance nodded, anxiety on the rise. “Oh, and I got this weird lightheaded thing where it kinda felt like I was outside my body and-” 

“Hunk, okay! Jeez!” Lance held up his hands and cut him off. Now he really was freaking out. After the shit he’d given Keith about his impromptu proposal, the pressure was on; He had to nail it.

“Hey, look on the bright side. If you flub it, you’ll have something to laugh about for the rest of your lives.” Hunk put his arm around Shay again and offered an encouraging grin, but it really didn’t help Lance feel any better.

“He kind of flubbed it,” Shay whispered behind her hand then looked at Hunk with an adoring giggle.

The way she looked at him though, and seeing how happy they were together despite an imperfect proposal… Now that helped.

 

The champagne flowed and the group grew louder as the first few bottles were emptied. Lance was in the booth leaning against Keith, a couple glasses deep and feeling the buzz kick in. He watched Keith pour himself his fourth or fifth glass of champagne. He’d lost count. And an already rather obnoxiously drunk Pidge and Maria had piled into the other side with a couple of shots a piece in-hand.

“Matt’s almost here!” Pidge shouted excitedly after getting a text from her brother.

“Check point: text message!” Maria cried. Lance watched her slam a shot with Pidge and didn’t know whether to be proud or ashamed of himself.

“Hey, you having fun?” He checked in with Keith at his side, who had been rather quiet.

“Yeah… It’s- It’s not so bad.” Keith forced a smile back at him. Lance felt a little bad, seeing Keith still on edge.

“Next time we’ll go somewhere more your speed,” he promised and kissed his sweet face.

“You kissed! Now you have to drink!” Maria cried.

“What? When did we make that rule?” Lance asked, feeling rather ambushed. When he was talking to Hunk, apparently, as he was swiftly informed. Keith snuck another kiss from him.

“That’s two,” Pidge counted, holding up her fingers.

“Keith! I have to drive us home!” Lance cried only to be told that it was still early and have another kiss firmly planted on his lips. 

“Three. Drink up, McClain.” Pidge set down her glass with a self-satisfied grin.

“Hey! I’m your ride too, Drunky McPidgeFace!” He reminded her. Lance looked to Keith for rescue but only got a shrug and a smug look. He tried Shiro next.

“I don’t make the rules, I just abide by them.” Shiro grinned with his arm around Allura, no help at all. He kissed his beautiful princess and then took a lengthy glug from his glass.

Pidge and Maria started chanting for him to drink. Lance sighed, realizing he’d created a couple monsters, and drank his punishment. At least it made Keith crack a genuine smile for the first time since they’d gotten to the club.

“You set me up,” Lance accused the man next to him.

“I don't know what you're talking about…” Keith snickered and drained his glass. With a tipsy sigh, he leaned back against the leather cushioning of the booth and let his dark eyes linger on Lance.

“You about ready to come dance with me?” Lance asked, taking Keith’s hand and trying to lead him out of the booth.

“Eh… I’m pretty happy right here.” Keith stayed put and pulled at Lance’s shirt in just such a way.

Lance fell back into the booth and teasingly brushed his lips over Keith's, swapping breath with him but not yet giving him what he wanted. “I’d kiss you again, but then I’d have to drink more.” He cupped Keith's face and thumbed over his cheek.

“How terrible that would be...” Keith’s lips parted and he didn’t back down.

“Right? It'd be the worst.” Lance shut his eyes and leaned in.

“Well, hello there, strangers!” A voice said just before their lips connected. Lance turned to see a man in a white jacket with shaggy, sandy-blonde hair standing outside the booth.

“Matt!” Pidge jumped up and clambered over Shiro and Allura to hug her brother. Maria followed on her heels.

“Hey, squirt!” Matt picked her up and hugged her fiercely. “And squirt++!” He high-fived Maria after putting Pidge back down. 

After a round of hugs and hellos, Matt crammed into the booth with the rest of the group, finding just enough space to wedge himself between Shiro and his sister.

“Hey, nerd. Who let you out of the lab?” Shiro cracked a cocky half-smile and held a glass of champagne out to him as he sat down.

“Hey yourself, go-go daddy.” Matt’s eyebrows quirked as he snapped the glass from Shiro’s fingers.

From across the booth, Lance watched the exchange. There was a certain subtlety to it, and something about the way they smiled at each other struck him as odd. Suddenly, it clicked and he gasped.

_Holy shit... Matt and Shiro?!_

“Keith! Keith, I have to tell you something!” Lance whispered excitedly to his boyfriend. 

“What?” Keith asked and followed Lance’s gaze. Shiro and Matt looked back at them not quite inconspicuously enough, and suddenly Lance pretended to be very interested in his drink. 

“What?” Keith asked again, confused.

“Shh. Not now. Later,” Lance muttered, trying his damnedest to conceal the shit-eating grin that was spreading across his face.

 

Somebody bought a tray of shots in honor of Matt’s arrival. Everyone credited and thanked Allura but she vehemently denied the accusation, stating that she would never be such a bad influence with a telling quirk of her lip.

“But since they’re already here, we might as well. Lance?” She offered the tray to him.

“No, no,” he passed. “I really do have to drive us home. But you all go right ahead,” Lance said and slid one in front of Keith, hoping it might cajole him onto the dancefloor.

Rather enjoying the night, Lance looked around the booth. It was the original Garrison crew: Hunk, Pidge, Keith, Shiro, Matt, Allura, and himself. And their acquired girlfriends, Shay and Maria. All of them piled in the booth, laughing and chatting loudly. Even Keith next to him was starting to be a bit more talkative. Maybe it was the alcohol but Lance felt his heart swell with warmth. He couldn’t ask for a better group of human beings. They all meant the world to him. Feeling a bit sentimental, he gave Keith’s knee a quick squeeze then slipped out of the booth to help Hunk open another couple bottles.

“Hunk, this was such a good idea.” He smiled warmly at his friend. With their busy adult lives, they almost never all hung out together like that anymore.

“Yeah, I wanted to do something with just us, ya know? Before Shay’s family gets in town for the _actual_ engagement party.” 

Lance nodded. According to Hunk, her family could be a lot to deal with.

“You sure you’re okay with what you’re marrying into,” Lance teased him mildy.

“Oh, the Balmerans? Nah, they’re great. There’s just a lot of them, ya know?” Hunk chuckled thinking of the big Indian family he was marrying into. “But hey, Keith is gonna be meeting your family soon, huh? Is he gonna be okay? Are _they_ gonna be okay?”

Lance blew a breath between his lips and ran a hand through his hair. “I really don’t know, man. My dad is just-” He shook his head. “Well, you know what? They’re gonna have to like him. Because I’m gonna spend the rest of my life with him, whether they like it or not.” Lance shot back the rest of his champagne to punctuate the sentiment.

“That’s the spirit!” Hunk slapped his back. “Plus, they’re you’re family. They love you. And they’ll love Keith too.”

“Damn right, they will. Now if you’ll excuse me, I want to see if my future husband will come dance with me.” Lance set down his glass but Hunk caught him by the arm before he could get back in the booth.

“Oh hey... Uh, there’s actually something I wanted to ask you. Kind of a favor...” Hunk twiddled his thumbs nervously. “If uh, if it’s not too much trouble, I was kind of hoping you’d be my best man, but like, no pressure. Absolutely no pressure at all.” He held up his meaty hands. “I know it’s kind of a lot to ask when you’re about to be planning a wedding yourself and you’re probably-”

“Hunk…” Lance cut him off and ginned wildly. It was a good thing the club was dimly lit because Lance was definitely tearing up. “Of course, man! Are you kidding?” They shared a joyous, back-slapping hug. 

“Oh thank god…” Hunk’s shoulders heaved with relief. “Otherwise it was gonna be Shay’s brother and honestly that guy scares the crap out of me!”

“You know I want you to be mine too, right?” Lance smiled at his best friend.

Hunk laughed from his belly and gave him one more bone-rattling slap.

“You got it, buddy!” 

 

Riding high from his conversation with Hunk and a bit more alcohol than he’d meant to consume that night, Lance tumbled into the booth and halfway into Keith’s lap. “Hey. You drunk enough to come dance with me yet?” He rasped into Keith’s ear.

Keith laughed nervously and didn’t make eye contact, which Lance took as a no. He frowned, perplexed. He’d been hoping his boyfriend’s drunk alter ego would come out to play, but unfortunately Keith didn’t look like he was having a ton of fun. No matter what Lance did, he wouldn’t leave the booth and had spent most of the night hiding in the back of it pulling at his collar and holding his elbows.

Lance slid his arm around the back of him. “Hey, I know you’re not really feeling this place, but tonight’s kind of an important night and it’d mean a lot if I got to dance with my boyfriend.” 

Lance’s sincerity was not lost on Keith, but he still had his reservations.

“I dunno, Lance. This isn’t really the venue for… us.” Keith gazed out at the sea of heterosexuality on the dancefloor.

“What if Pidge and Maria come with us?” Lance tried to entice him. “Hunk and Shay too. We’ll all go dance together.”

Keith still looked unsure.

“I thought you might be a tough sell,” Lance chuckled. “So what if I gave you two of these?” He pulled two tequila shots out from behind his back that he’d sneakily added to Allura’s order and tilted his head with a smile.

Keith looked at the shots in Lance’s hand then up at his boyfriend. Slowly, a mischievous smile cracked across his face.

 

 

Ten minutes later Keith was shaking what his mama gave him and grinding on Lance on the dancefloor, not shy in the slightest about putting on a show for anyone in the near vicinity. A small circle had formed around them and at one point people were chanting _Keith Keith Keith_. The crowd erupted with applause and cheers when, after a few teasing near misses, Keith caught Lance by the lips and together they stood making out in front of a crowd of strangers. Another cheer was thrown up when Keith’s hands found Lance's ass cheeks and gave them a very friendly hello.

“That’s the end of the show, folks! He’s all mine now!” Lance cried, waving the crowd away with one hand while pulling Keith closer with the other. He nuzzled his nose against Keith’s cheek and went in for another kiss.

“I want more more shots,” Keith giggled after, stumbling and falling into Lance.

“Give it a minute. You had a lot of champagne too,” Lance cautioned. A little dizzy, Keith rested his head on Lance’s shoulder and together they swayed to the music. It was nice, and for a moment Keith wondered what he’d been so worried about. He saw a couple walking away from the dancing area hand-in-hand and got an idea.

“Hey... Do you think people hook up in the bathrooms here?” He purred into Lance’s ear.

“Oh ho! Why? You looking to find out?” Lance snickered, hooking a finger through the belt loop on Keith’s pants.

Keith shot him a very sultry look that had Lance blowing air between his lips because he knew what that face meant.

“I dunno, babe, this place seems a little classy for that.” It was a hard offer to turn down. “When I get you home though...” Lance hummed low in his throat and squeezed the edges of Keith’s hips.

“I bet I can get you to fuck me here,” Keith said confidently.

“Oh? Okay. Try me.” Lance played along.

“Come on, baby,” Keith said throatily and left a wet, open-mouthed kiss on his boyfriend’s neck. “You know what I like when I’m drunk.” The breath that graced his ear as Keith nibbled on his earlobe left goosebumps on Lance’s arm.

“Oh, I definitely do,” he groaned and lifted Keith’s chin. “But you’re gonna have to do better than that.”

Not giving up yet, Keith’s fingers played along the top of Lance’s pants. He tucked a finger behind Lance’s belt.

“Lance-alicious. So delicious, make them boys go crazy,” he sang while pulling his boyfriend closer by the waistband. His other arm draped over Lance’s shoulder and he captured Lance’s lips in a breathy kiss.

Lance snickered through his nose. Keith was _definitely_ plastered if he was reciting Fergie lyrics, but Lance realized as Keith’s mouth pulled wantonly at his bottom lip that he was kind of into it. 

“You make me go crazy, alright…” He played with the long strands at the back of Keith’s head and was very nearly swayed by the dark eyes that were trying to seduce him. “But you’ll have to wait ‘til we get home,” he said firmly and tapped Keith on the nose.

Keith pouted in defeat for a moment then grinned to himself, remembering that he had one more card up his sleeve. 

“Hey.” He pulled Lance closer by the collar to say something into his ear. "llévame a el baño y _cógeme._ "

“Keith!” Lance shrieked and held him at arms-length to gape at him. “Holy shit! Where did you learn that?”

“He e-estado practi- practicando. Para ti.” Keith smiled.

“For me?” Lance breathed, somewhat in shock.

“Sí.” Keith nodded and, amazed, Lance kissed him fast.

“Te gusta?” Keith asked against Lance’s lips.

“Oh my god, your accent sucks but I love it!” Lance gasped between kisses.

Keith pulled at his collar again. “Well, you should know then, that I want you to...”

Lance went weak in the knees at what was whispered in his ear. It didn’t matter how bad Keith’s accent was, his fingers were reflexively pitting into Keith’s hips.

"Con ese cuerpo y esa cara, te llevo a donde quieras, bebé," Lance said and met Keith’s gaze with a fire of his own.

“I- I don’t know what that means…” Keith suddenly looked unsure.

“It means you're about to get fucked in the bathroom,” Lance growled. He grabbed Keith by the wrist and started towards the far side of the club where a male symbol illuminated in blue hung over a doorway.

They passed by Shiro on the other side of the dancefloor, who was coming back from the bar and precariously carrying three drinks in his hands. They both subconsciously slowed to let their wandering eyes check out his ass and broad shoulder as he walked away and laughed when they caught each other looking.

“Actually... You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?” Lance floated the idea.

Keith bit his lip flicked his eyebrows in response. “You think he’d do it though?” He asked, suddenly doubtful.

Lance rubbed his bottom lip thoughtfully. It had been a while since they’d had Shiro over and getting their goody-two-shoes friend to fool around with them in the back of a hoity-toity club was a badge of honor Lance suddenly coveted. “Go ask him, babe.” He kissed Keith’s cheek. “He won’t say no to you.”

“You sure?” Keith looked to him for confirmation.

Lance nodded with a cheeky grin. “I’ll have you to myself at home.”

Smiling, Keith squeezed his hand and their fingers slowly drifted apart. Lance watched him disappear in the crowd as he went after Shiro.

There was a surge of bodies from the dancefloor and suddenly, Lance found himself with much less personal space as the crowd compressed around him. People stumbled and jostled together in the confusion, and Lance narrowly avoided having a drink spilled on him. The music continued to boom over the disgruntled murmurs of club patrons while a team of security guards worked to clear a path through the middle of the room. In the chaos, Lance ended up crushed into Hunk and Shay.

“Jeez, what the hell is going on?” He griped to his equally indignant and confused friends. 

The doors to the club were thrown open and for a moment, only heavy mist from the smoke machines filled the doorway. A shadow appeared behind the cloudy substance, and then, a man, tall and dressed in black with a long, flowing coat and dark sunglasses emerged from the fog. A spotlight was thrown on to light his path, and an entourage of seven or eight intimidating individuals dressed in suits and fine gowns spilled in and fanned out behind him. Impressed murmurs and whispers began to echo through the crowd, and a few cell phones were thrown up to snap pictures. Front and center, the man swept a lock of flowing, white hair over his shoulder and continued to type rather boredly into his smart phone as he strutted across the dancefloor.

“Wow. Who’s that?” Shay asked her husband-to-be.

“No idea,” Hunk responded.

But Lance, standing next to them and unable to hear anything but the ringing in his ears knew _exactly_ who that was.

  


  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I got gas in the tank_   
>  _I got money in the bank_   
>  _I got news for you baby,_   
>  _You're looking at the man_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _I got skin in the game_  
>  _I got a household name_  
>  _I got news for you baby,_  
>  _You're looking at the man_
> 
>   
>  -The Man by The Killers, a song that makes me think about Lotor.
> 
>   
> I can't believe I listened to Fergie to write this... I hope it was worth it. -__-  
>  
> 
>    
>  **Chapter art:**  
> [All the single lades](https://enjayas.tumblr.com/post/173942683299/chapter-2-is-up-in-a-return-to-the-pdr-roots) by Catfishdraws 
> 
> Chapter next: **Proximity**  
>  Might need 2 weeks to get this one out, we'll see!
> 
>    
> Spanish Translations:  
> llévame a el baño y _cógeme. - Take me to the bathroom and fuck me._  
>  He estado practicando. Para ti - I've been practicing. For you.  
> Sí - Yes  
> Te gusta? - You like?  
> Con ese cuerpo y esa cara, te llevo a donde quieras, bebé - With that face and that body, I'll take you wherever you want, baby.


	3. Proximity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #### Please - **[r]**  - a - - - - Responsibly
> 
> Lance comes face to face with Lotor for the first time since _Please Get F*cked Responsibly_. Things get a little spicy between Shiro and Keith and some other anxiety-inducing things happen, but bear with me. It ends on a soft note. :) 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to update. Life got a little nuts for a second there and I'm learning how to balance a social life with my creative endeavors now that I'm not sick anymore. But, fear not! I am still writing this story and the next chapter is here! 
> 
> As a quick refresher, the whole Voltron crew is out at some fancy club having an engagement party for Hunk and Shay. Lance just sent Keith off to get Shiro so the three of them can have some fun in the bathroom together. And who showed up just as Lance was left alone? Lotor, that's who.

  


  


The air in the club felt thicker and heavier than the crowd packed in around him. It slipped into Lance’s lungs like a toxic sludge, turning breathing into a conscious exercise and threatening to choke him as much as the lump steadily rising in his throat. The world moved in dizzying slow motion and at the center of it was the statuesque, vision of a man drifting across the center of the room. Blacking out all else, Lance’s vision tunneled on the figure from his past. 

It didn’t feel real. 

After all this time, how could he be here?

But it was. It was him. 

Paralyzed with terror and with nowhere to run even if his legs had been working, Lance watched, motionless, as the silver-haired man continued across the room, drawing nearer to where he stood in the crowd next to Hunk and Shay. He realized with chilling horror that he was going to cross right in front of them, and suddenly the mass of bodies before him didn't seem enough to hide him, to shield him from view. The crowd was too dense and Lance too without his senses to think of ducking behind someone, and so, defenseless, he stared open-mouthed and wide-eyed as the man, no less terrifying yet no less beautiful than he remembered, came closer. 

Feeling naked, exposed, and vulnerable, the music had faded to a dull roar in Lance’s ears, eclipsed by a high-pitched ringing that could only have been the sound of his nerves straining as they approached maximum tension. He was going to see him. Any second now, the man’s head would turn and the moment Lance had been dreading would come to pass.

 _Silver…_ Lance formed the word with bitter distaste and then held his breath, waiting for it.

The man strode another long and elegant stride.

_Waiting…_

Then another.

_Waiting..._

Lance couldn't take it anymore. His sanity was about to snap in half. But then, with an unconcerned flip of his hair, the man walked right past where Lance stood in the crowd and didn't even look at him.

_..._

_...what?_

Lance blinked, confused and watched him go. The tightly packed throngs decompressed and fanned out around him after the procession was over, but Lance stayed put, frozen in place, his eyes glued on the set of double doors the man had disappeared through.

 _Hey…_

He was oddly miffed, let down even. The man hadn’t even noticed him. It didn’t make sense. 

_He was right there… How could he not see me?_

Lance was pulled from his thoughts by someone was tugging on his arm.

“LANCE!” Keith shouted for the third time.

“Huh? Wha-” Lance blinked at him in a daze.

“Are you coming or not?” Keith smiled flirtily at his boyfriend. Lance noticed Shiro standing a few paces behind him and vaguely remembered something about Keith going off to find him.

“Come on, silly. Don’t get cold feet now.” Keith laughed and pulled him towards Shiro, but Lance’s eyes darted back to doorway the man had gone through.

“Um, hey,” Lance gently took Keith’s hand and leaned close so he could hear over the volume of the club. “You go with Shiro. I gotta check on something.”

“Wait, what?” Keith’s expression turned serious.

“I’ll find you guys later.”

“Lance, wait-” Keith grabbed at his sleeve as he tried to turn away, certain there must be some mistake. “You want me to go… with Shiro? Really?”

“Yeah, I trust you. Just no tequila shots without me, okay?” Lance forced a smile and pecked Keith on the lips.

Perplexed, Keith watched his boyfriend crane his neck over the crowd and touched his mouth where Lance’s lips had pressed. Unsure and lost in thought, he stumbled over to Shiro to explain with some very confused hand gestures what Lance had said. 

“You and me?” Shiro mouthed and pointed between them then cocked his head at Keith like that couldn’t be right. Not after all the fine tuning it had taken for them to get through a threesome in the first place and even more so with all the restrictions Lance had placed on what he and Keith could do together. Keith just shrugged helplessly and hugged his elbows while Shiro charged after the man in blue. 

“Hey, Lance.” Shiro’s hand landed on his shoulder. “Are you sure it's okay if we-”

“Yeah, yeah.” Lance waved him off. “Keith already asked me. He knows the rules.” With that, Lance slipped into the crowd leaving an utterly baffled Shiro and Keith to stare at one another, neither totally sure what had just happened.

 

Lance dodged bodies as he muscled his way through the crowd, making a beeline for the double doors. There was only one thing on his mind: Get upstairs. He surveyed the balconies above while he crossed the room and noticed that there was a crowd on one of them that hadn’t been there before. Of course that man would be in the VIP section, Lance’s mind sneered, and he had every intention of getting up there himself. That, however, looked like it was going to be easier said than done. A black velvet rope and a beefy, bored-looking bouncer were stationed just outside the entryway the man and his posse had passed through.

Lance veered to the side and watched the door from an inconspicuous distance for a few minutes. The people coming and going through it were mostly bartenders and servers carrying trays of drinks, and luckily, Lance’s button-down mostly matched their attire. He just needed a prop...

He glanced around and spied a discarded tray on the edge of one of the bars. Moving to it, he casually leaned his elbow on the side of the metallic tray, and when there were no complaints, he curled his forearm around the platter and snapped it under his elbow against his side. He quickly swiped two unattended drinks off a table and, hoisting the tray up on one hand like a server, made a break for the door.

Ignoring his nerves and the heart pounding against his ribcage, Lance put on his best overworked server face and nodded boredly at the bouncer as he pushed the doors open. To his surprise, the guy didn’t even look up from his phone and even leaned slightly out of the way so Lance could get through.

Once safely on the other side of the doors and a few paces down the hall, Lance heaved with relief and downed half of one of the drinks on his tray. It tasted like gin, which wasn’t his favorite, but he was grateful for the distraction the burn in his throat provided. 

Already hearing his own breath echoing in his ears, he started up a flight of stairs. Someone was bustling down them, another server or hostess by the looks of it, female, with dark purple shoulder-length hair and a sour face. It’d be too suspicious to turn around now; she'd probably already seen him. Stifling momentary panic, Lance raised the tray to obscure his face and hurried past her without incident. He stopped at the top of the stairs and leaned against the wall clutching his chest to calm his racing heart and survey his surroundings.

The upstairs hallway was narrow and painted black from the floor to the ribbed vaults of the high ceiling overhead, the architecture resembling that of an old church. Austere, gothic chandeliers hung from the apex of each vault, casting a warm glow along the corridor that didn't spill into the semi-private rooms that split off from the hall. Tall columns book-ended each entrance and the inside of each VIP area could be seen over a high half-wall. Tinted red lights set to flicker like candles cast a sensual glow over the occupants of each room. 

Lance started down the hallway. Several of the rooms were occupied but only one held a large group. Lance’s eyes scoured the party but he couldn't tell if it was the same crowd the man had entered with. Though there had definitely been other bodies around him, Lance’s mind had only taken in the one.

And then Lance saw something that he recognized. In the second to last opening on the left, separate from the crowd: The back of a head sporting lustrous, shining locks. It was unmistakable. Even in the altered light, Lance would have recognized it anywhere. Breath stalled in his throat again and his feet came to a stop in their tracks. There he was. In the flesh. After so long...

Lance was paralyzed again. He didn’t know what to do. Surely the man knew he was here. Was he - Lance gulped - waiting for him, like he used to at Empire G? Where had he been? Why now, of all times, of all places?

Another server zipped past him as he idled in narrow hall and brought Lance back to his senses. He quickly slipped into a shallow alcove that housed a small countertop and looked like it might be a place to prepare drinks or an unused coat check. Peering into the hall, he watched the server step into the booth with the man Lance was tailing. She presented an expensive looking bottle to him and another rush of adrenaline shocked Lance’s system when the man’s head turned slightly towards her. Lance ducked back into the alcove fast, afraid to even be caught in the man’s peripherals. The reality of what he was doing was starting to catch up with him. He gripped the sides of the tray firmly to stop his hands from shaking only to make the ice rattle in one of the drinks. 

“Fuck it,” he growled under his breath, annoyed with himself, and abandoned the tray on the ledge. He’d come this far, no sense in chickening out now. He peeked into the hallway again. The server poured a drink in the man’s booth, set the bottle down, exchanged some pleasantries and then left. Lance hid in the shadows of the recess and stayed still until she passed. After that the coast was clear. Lance looked down the hall and swallowed hard. It was now or never and the question was burning him alive. Why?

Cautiously, but with an air of feigned confidence, he approached the room. The man, seemingly unaware of his presence, sat casually with a leg crossed over his knee and an arm stretched along the back of the long, plush seating inside. Silver-white hair darkened by the reddish light spilled down his shoulders as he idly swirled a cocktail glass filled with an amber liquid. A tall bottle filled with the same color sat open on the low table in front of him. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes but the thumb typing busily into his phone indicated that it was the object holding his attention. For whatever reason, Lance was grateful he was alone.

Silently, he watched in awe. It still didn’t feel like it was really happening. There were a thousand things he wanted to say to this man. A thousand things, but in that moment, a shaky and mildly accusatory _‘Y-You’_ was all Lance managed to utter.

“Thank you, I won’t be needing anything else.” The man said politely but dismissively and didn’t look up from his phone.

Lance didn’t leave.

“L-Lotor…” He stuttered, unsure that was even his name. “I, um- I don’t work here.” 

The man’s lip twitched with irritation, but still, he didn’t adjust his posture.

“I’m not taking visitors tonight.”

“Are you serious right now?” Lance huffed at the indifference. “After all the bullshit you’ve pulled? I figured you’d be happy to see me!”

“Security,” the man sighed boredly and in a matter of seconds two men seized Lance by the arms.

“What?! Hey- Let go of me!” Lance tried to shove the guards off but they were much bigger than he was. Each of them would have given Shiro a run for his money. 

“Remove him from the premises, and you’d be wise to make sure there are no further disturbances,” the man warned his guards.

Flailing and indignant, Lance was dragged down the hall and away from the man's VIP booth. He was furious. Ignored? After years of text messages and attempts to lure him back, it was the last thing he'd been expecting.

“No, would you just listen for a second?” He tried to appeal to the guards but it wasn’t working. Steadily, he was escorted towards a back entrance, and if past experience had taught him anything, Lance did not want to know what was on other side of it. “He knows me okay, would you just- Whoa! What the cheese is that?!” Lance cried at absolutely nothing and, when the guards were distracted, used his limberness and double jointed shoulders to slip free of their grip. He tore back down the hallway and burst into the man's booth, shoulders heaving, shirt and hair a disheveled mess. 

“You know what? The least you could do is fucking look at me!” He managed to bark before the guards caught up and tackled him. Lance tumbled to his knees and found his face and torso unceremoniously mashed into the thinly padded velvet seating. One of his wrists was twisted uncomfortably behind his back and this time he didn’t bother fighting. Wincing at the sting in his shoulder, he twisted his head and didn’t take his eyes off the man across the table.

“Look at me!” Lance demanded through gritted teeth but to avail. 

It made no sense. Lance was certain, _certain_ , that if he could just get him to... 

“Lotor. I said, _look_ at me.”

The wrist holding up a phone went limp with an irritated sigh. The man dropped the device into his lap then put a hand up to stop the guards from dragging off the intruder. Swirling his drink, he took his time taking a long drag then pointedly set the glass down on the low table in front of him. Sweeping a flowing lock over one shoulder, he crossed his hands around his knee and made a show of exactly how inconvenienced he was at having to lift his neck up to look across the booth at the uninvited guest.

“There. Are you quite satisfied now-” He stopped short and suddenly sat up straighter.

Panting and straining in the guard’s grasp, Lance watched recognition spread across the man’s features. His lips softened and parted just so. Sunglasses were pulled down down to reveal the piercing blue eyes that sometimes haunted Lance’s dreams, but they weren’t as terrifying as he remembered them to be. In fact, there was an unexpected softness to them, something deeper that lurked behind the shock and disbelief.

“Garrison boy…” The man breathed is a much changed tone.

A shudder passed through Lance upon hearing that name, and confusingly, not an entirely terrible one. But he was quick to shake it off, and setting his jaw, he shifted back to surliness. 

“You know him, boss?” One of the guards asked.

“Yes. I believe I do.”

The grip on his wrist loosened instantly and the weight on top of him subsided too.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Lance pouted as he yanked his arm back from the guard and shoved them away when they tried to help him up. Armed with his best steely-eyed glare, Lance pulled himself to his feet and, for the first time since it had all gone so wrong in a dingy back room at Empire G, met the man's eye.

“Long time, no see… Silver.” 

 

\---

 

A giggling Shiro and Keith stepped into the very last in a long row of bathroom stalls. Most of the awkwardness had dissipated in a very flirty and handsy trek to the men’s room. The tall, matte black walls of the stall reached from the floor and nearly to the ceiling, ensuring a certain amount of privacy. Shiro nearly lost his balance while shutting the tall, hinged door behind them and stumbled against Keith, who caught him by the elbows in the small stall.

“Whoa, sorry… I’m a little drunk,” he admitted with a chuckle.

“I’m right there with ya.” Keith tossed a laugh back at him. His laughter trailed into nervousness a moment later as it dawned on him that it really was just the two of them. Shiro hesitated a moment too, seemingly having a similar realization himself.

“Hey, Keith.” The taller man looked down and cracked a crooked, loving smile.

“Hey...” Keith breathed.

“Is this okay?” Shiro asked, sensing some nervousness, and carefully let his hands settle on Keith’s hips. 

“Yeah. I think so…” Lance had given them permission after all.

Keith’s feet scuffed across the artistically placed black and white tiles of the floor as Shiro pulled him closer by the hips. Hands slid up his torso in the next breath, the fleshier of the two slipping under his shirt, fingers feeling and pressing in just the right places, patterning a message of want into the skin beneath them. Keith’s body threatened to writhe under the touch and a sudden rush to his head left him dizzier than the alcohol already hampering his system. He grasped Shiro’s hands abruptly and held them in place, needing a moment to steady his breath, taken aback by the intimacy.

“You okay?” Shiro asked after the recoil.

“Yeah, I just- There’s not a lot of room in here,” Keith said, but that wasn’t it. It was weird not having Lance there too.

“I can get closer…” Shiro asked carefully, being mindful of his body language.

“Alright…” Keith allowed it and a smirk crept over his face as Shiro made good on his offer. A hand ran up his side again, brushed along his neck, and came up to cradle the side of his face. 

“This okay?” Shiro asked, kneading his fingertips into the tender spot where nape met skull.

“Yeah.” Keith relaxed into it. “Keep going.” Swept up in the touch, his eyes rolled shut. They slitted open again just in time to catch Shiro whispering his name and beginning to lean in.

Keith turned his head away at the last second with a startled huff of air. That wasn’t okay. Lance was expressly against them kissing.

“Hey, we can’t-”

“I know. I’m not gonna break the rules,” Shiro assured him and gently turned Keith’s face back to him. Leaning in again, he softly pressed his nose against Keith's, then gently traced the tip of it part-way up the bridge and back down again. Breath hit against Keith’s lower lip and he let his eyes fall shut to better saver the moment. Tentatively at first, he began to slide his nose against Shiro’s too. It was strangely affectionate, unexpectedly intimate, and surprisingly… nice.

Shiro pulled back just enough for their eyes to connect and Keith wasn't sure what scared him more, thinking that Shiro might throw caution to the wind and suddenly kiss him or that, in that moment, he almost wanted him to. Shiro's knowing smile seemed to convey an understanding of his dilemma.

“Shiro, um-” Keith stammered and stiffened with worry as the other man got closer, but Shiro’s mouth slipped just past his lips and collided with the sharp edge of his jaw instead. It was unclear if that was his intended target all along or not. Keith was too drunk to know for sure and Shiro’s warm, wet mouth drifting to his neck felt too good for him to care. He rolled his lips together and let loose a moan while the other man made out with his neck.

Fingers clawed at Keith’s sides with want and the sentiment reverberated through Keith’s core too. His hands grasped at Shiro’s clothes as the moment grew heated. Unexpectedly, Shiro dropped to his knees. He pushed up Keith's shirt up and, in a swift action that had both their breath stuttering, pressed his mouth to the exposed flesh of Keith's abdomen. Keith’s hands reflexively delved into Shiro’s hair.

“God, Keith... I want to use my mouth on you.” Shiro whispered a plea and Keith felt his cock jump at the suggestion. 

_I trust you._ The words rang in his head - Lance’s words - and Keith caught Shiro by the jaw before he lost sight of the situation. 

“I don’t think Lance would appreciate that very much,” he said firmly and pulled the other man back to standing. “Let’s just stick to the rules. No kissing. Hands only. Nothing we haven’t done before.”

“Hands only, huh?” With a cocky tilt of his head and an uncharacteristically devious smile, Shiro traced a thumb across Keith’s parted lips then pushed his index finger between them. Keith gasped with surprise as the digit press into the flat of his tongue, but soon played along, pursing his lips tightly as Shiro pulled it back out again.

“Oh, you’re bad,” he admonished playfully. Then, with a glint in his eyes ignited by Shiro’s creativity and rising to the challenge, Keith took the finger back in his mouth and sucked with a hungry moan.

A noise came out of Shiro that Keith hadn’t heard him make before. His metal forearm slammed against the stall above Keith’s head and, enamored, he slumped flush against the other man. 

“Keith…” Shiro all but whined as Keith added a second finger. His mouth ended up next to Keith’s ear and rasping, affected breath poured loudly into it while Shiro shamelessly dry-humped and grinded into Keith's hip. The display had Keith smirking with satisfaction. It was nice seeing Shiro so… not in control, for once.

Getting heated from the friction himself, Keith slipped a hand between their bodies, searching for the swell at Shiro’s groin and felt the man’s frame rock with a shudder when he found it.

“God, I’ve wanted this for so long…” Shiro gasped and pressed their noses together again. “I care about you so much, Keith.”

The smaller man gently pushed some distance between them.

“Less talking, more of this.”

Shiro’s face pained when Keith’s hand dipped into his pants.

 

\---

 

The guards were dismissed and it was just Lance and the silver-haired man from his past staring each other down in the small room.

“Are you alright?” The man finally broke the silence. “They can be rather rough.”

“I’m fine,” Lance insisted and stopped rubbing his wrist.

A heavy silence with bated breath on both ends of it followed.

“So what, you’re following me now?” Lance didn’t bother beating around the bush.

“Following?” The man chuckled. “You have quite the imagination.”

“Right, I forgot... You don’t answer questions.” Lance crossed his arms and glared. “But, come on, why else would you be here? And after that entrance?”

The man looked mildly offended at the accusation.

“Why would I be here? In my club? Entertaining my guests and conducting my business?”

 _H-His club..._ Lance was suddenly sweating.

“Forgive me, Garrison boy… But it seems that _you_ are the one who followed _me_.”

Lance gulped. He had him there. 

The man smirked victoriously but let it go.

“Where are my manners? Please, have a seat.” He gestured at bench next to him. “You are clearly here to talk, Garrison boy.”

“That’s not my name.” Lance stayed firm.

Intrigue spread across the man's face.

“Very well, then… Lance.” Goosebumps erupted down Lance’s arms hearing the man purr his name like that. “Would you care to join me?”

Lance didn't know why he did it. Compelled by something he couldn't quite explain, he dropped mechanically onto the end of the bench, as far away from the room’s other occupant as he could be. He kept his guard up and his eyes on alert as another glass was summoned for him. Lance shifted uneasily in the seat, aware of the sharp eyes that were watching him and no doubt trying to decipher his every move. 

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” The man was cordial and gave away no signs of duplicity while pouring him a drink. “I’ll admit, I’m pleased to see you. I’ve been wondering how you turned out.” He cocked his head with a thoughtful glance as he set the cup in front of his guest. Lance cleared his throat and picked it up for no other reason than to have something to do with his hands. A little burst of something that might have been joy had gone off in his chest at the implication that this man had been thinking about him and it had him rather shaken. But he was quick to shut it down. He wasn’t going to fall for any of this man’s tricks.

“Well? Cat got your tongue?” The man prompted but seemed to be enjoying his distress.

“I, uh-” Lance stared into the liquid in his glass then gulped down a sizable portion of its contents. With a shaky breath, he _willed_ his nerves into submission. “Well, this place is a lot nicer than Empire G…” It was the least awkward thing he could think of to say.

“I told you things had changed.” The man smirked with an arrogance that really rubbed Lance the wrong way.

“Yeah? Is this how you _‘entertain’_ now or whatever?” He scoffed with finger quotes.

“Empire G belonged to my father. Both he and it are long in the past.” An edge steeled with venom and warning entered into the man’s voice.

“Oh, so you’re not into underage boys anymore?” Lance jabbed and to his satisfaction it seemed to have the desired effect. 

“I didn't know you were seventeen,” the man said after a pause.

“Didn't stop you once you did.” Lance bit back.

The man’s mouth pulled into a line and he looked away. For a brief moment, Lance enjoyed having the upper hand.

“Is that really what you’re upset about?” Piercing blue eyes fell on him again and it was Lance’s turn to look away. They both knew it wasn't. 

“You know, you never came back…”

Lance looked at the man, incredulous. He had the audacity to look mildly hurt. “You said you’d kill me!”

“Mmm,” the man hummed into his drink. “I do occasionally have a flair for the dramatic…” He admitted with a wry smile then tossed back the contents of his glass. 

“Dramatic?!” Lance cried. “I was terrified of you!”

“Are you still?”

“W-What?”

“Terrified...”

“No…” Lance lied and folded his arms so his trembling hands wouldn't give him away. “Should I be?” He couldn't help but ask.

“I’ll leave that for you to decide,” the man said with a quirk of his features that could only be described as… flirty.

Suddenly, Lance was sweating even more. A very different emotion was stirring within him, one that he’d thought long since dead. Much to his distaste, or perhaps with guilty delight - he couldn’t decide which - he remembered what it felt like to be the object of this man’s affection.

“I really liked you, you know… Like, _a lot._ ” Lance admitted and hated that he sounded jilted.

“My feelings were strong for you too, Lance. There was something different about you.” The man smiled fondly, setting off another explosion that seared inside Lance’s chest, a odd pain laced with an old kind of hurt.

“You know, Garrison boy...” The man set his glass down on the table and shifted down the bench closer to Lance when he turned back to him. “There’s something I’ve been wondering…”

Lance’s eyes grew wide as he got the feeling that they weren’t just reminiscing anymore. Torn between the instinct to run and curiosity about what it was that he'd been wondering, Lance was as entranced by the man’s words as his stare while he steadily crept closer. 

“You don’t have to accept, but just hear me out.”

Mouth dry and hands clammy but with a disloyal beat of his heart thrumming _‘yes, come closer’_ , Lance felt himself panicking. He hadn't been prepared for this. His mind raced, a mess of conflict and jumbled thoughts until finally the loudest one, part excitement and part realization that he might be in over his head, rose to the surface just as the man’s handed landed on his thigh. A breathy, internalized, _‘Oh, shit…’_

 

\---

 

A server with a bright pink high-top ponytail sprinted up the stairs. The tray of shots strapped over her shoulders sloshed everywhere as she rushed. Out of breath, she met her husky comrade at the top of the stairs.

“Holy shit,” she gasped. 

“What Ezor? What is so urgent?” Zethrid griped, annoyed at being pulled away from her duties.

“Lance is- Lance is here!” She managed to get the words out before bending in half again. 

“What?” Zethrid cried.

“S-Saw him earlier- Couldn’t- Couldn’t get away until now,” she heaved for air. 

Narti came down the hall from the other side and began batting Zethrid’s arm to get her attention, pointing wildly at something behind them. Zethrid turned to see what she was looking at. 

“Well I’ll be damned…”

“We have to tell Lotor!” Ezor, who had not followed Narti’s finger, urged.

“I think he knows.” Zethrid nodded for her still-clueless colleague to look too. 

A somewhat boyish-looking man that they had previously only seen in photos or from afar was sitting in a private room next to their leader engaged in what appeared to be a rather intimate conversation. 

“Are you kidding me?!” Ezor gawked. “We spent weeks planning a way for them to cross paths and he just shows up here and starts talking to Lotor?” He shoulders slumped with dismay.

“Either Lotor really is a genius or he’s the luckiest man alive,” Zethrid marveled.

Ezor’s chagrin slowly turned to delight as a spitefulness spread across her features. “Oh, Acxa is going to be _pissed_ when she find out!” 

 

\---

 

Heavy panting could be heard coming out of the far bathroom stall. A few patrons at the urinals looked around confused, at first, and a couple others at the sinks eyed the row of stalls where the commotion seemed to be coming from. A few eyebrows were raised and snickers could be heard as they caught on. Knowing, amused glances were exchanged before one-by-one the restroom was vacated, leaving the bathroom’s remaining occupants to have their fun.

In the assumed privacy of the stall, Keith had a leg hooked around the back of Shiro and an arm slung over his shoulder to hold their bodies close. Shiro’s metal hand cinched around his waist helped too. Between their bodies and in a shared grasp, their cocks pressed together. 

Nearing climax, hands moved fast and hips thrusted in search of additional friction. Breath heightened then stuttered, and in the next moment a choked cry suffocated against a neck. A softly moaned name fell into dark hair soon after and gradually, their panting shallowed, drifting into breathy, satisfied laughter.

“Damn…” Keith sighed, letting his head fall back against the stall wall behind him with a dull thud. Shiro said nothing and continued to gaze at Keith like he was the whole world. Arms wrapped tightly around the smaller body, Shiro tried to bring their noses together again, but Keith was too busy trying to clean up without getting any mess on their clothes to notice.

 

\---

 

_Oh, shit… Shit… Shit… Shit…_

Lance’s mind was approaching light speed.

“As I mentioned before, we, the Galra, do good now. We’ve come a long way from what we’ve been...” 

The man was talking, but the words weren’t making it to Lance’s brain. He was distracted - far too distracted - by how close they were sitting, and by the hand lightly placed just above his knee, the thumb kneading slow circles into his thigh. And most distracting of all was the way the flickering, red lighting was casting a cherry hue on the elegant strands that framed the man's face. It was a different shade from the usual stunning, white but no less iridescent and ethereal than what persisted in his memories. With a long-untended wound aching in his chest, Lance’s breath turned shallow. After all these years, was that really Silver right in front of him?

“After all, the best things in life are… mutually beneficial. Don’t you think, Lance?” The man smiled fondly and even though he didn’t have a clue what the man was going on about, Lance smiled back. “You know, you've been on my mind, Garrison boy.”

Something in the back of Lance's subconscious cried a warning and sent up emergency flares that roused him from his wishful daydream. It sounded like a line and he wasn't buying it. 

“Don’t pull that crap. I’m not some dumb kid anymore.” Lance narrowed his eyes. Though he had to admit, it was a vindicating thing hear.

An amused snicker was all he earned for his feistiness.

“Lance.” The man leaned his elbow on the top of the seatback and propped his cheek against the back of his fingers. “Why did you come see me tonight?”

“I-” Lance’s eyes tracked along the wall as he searched for the answer. “I saw you and I just-” A hand touched his face, gently bringing his gaze back to the man next to him. For the first time in years he stared into crystal blue eyes, as close as they'd been the last time.

“You wanted to see me, didn’t you?”

“Don't flatter yourself.” Lance spat at the smugness and shrugged his chin from the man’s grip.

“Really... Then perhaps you wanted _me_ to see you?” The man suggested slyly.

“Yeah, kinda- No! Ugh…” Lance pinched his brow in frustration. “Look, whatever we are- _were…_ ” He quickly corrected. “It doesn’t matter. I'm getting married soon.”

“Congratulations.” The man smiled with pleasant surprise but leaned in closer. “So then, what are you doing here?”

“I'm with my friends…”

“Friends?” The man cast a glance around the booth that was empty but for the two of them. “No, Lance. What are you doing _here?_ ”

Caught off guard, Lance stared into the man’s face and realized that he didn't have a good answer.

“I think there’s a little part of you that always wanted to come back.” Two fingers softly caressed the side of his cheek and Lance shuddered beneath them. “A part of you that wonders... what could have been.”

Lance didn’t need to wonder. He knew. He knew exactly what would have happened if he'd gone back. His eyes stung as he fought back tears. Looking into Silver’s blue eyes, he felt his defenses weakening.

“I’d have given you everything...” Barely more than a whisper, the words fell along with the tension in Lance's shoulders as he gave in to defeat. His eyes filled with longing, and he choked back a sob a moment later.

“I know. Darling, I know,” the man crooned and kissed a tear that had frustratingly spilled down his cheek. Lance flinched beneath his lips like they were white hot.

“Then why did you-” He was cut off by another sob.

“Shh. I’ve missed you, Garrison boy.” The man pulled him in close.

“Don’t tell me that…” Lance cried in vain, his voice wavering as much as his resolve. The man’s hands made slow, soothing circles across his back. Silver’s body was warm, just like he remembered, and his scent, too, was triggering memories, sparking visions of the soft moments they had shared.

“I promise you, everything is different now.” The hushed whisper had Lance melting into his embrace. 

“Silver…” Lance’s resolve gave out and his arms clasped fiercely around the frame in front of him. Affected by the gesture or perhaps by the utterance of the old pet name, the man's grasp on him tightened too. Still wrapped in his arms, Lance bought his honest, pleading eyes to meet the man’s face. “Did you really not know I was here tonight?”

“I hadn’t a clue until I laid my eyes on you. Feels a little bit like fate, doesn’t it?” A soft smile blossomed, laced with something that might have been self-consciousness, insecurity even. It wasn't an expression he'd seen on this man before and Lance was left hopelessly breathless by it.

Familiar lips landed to the side of his mouth and this time he didn’t flinch or pull away. He leaned into it as the man's mouth moved to his jaw, his neck. A deep restlessness within him was eased with each kiss, an old hurt soothed. 

"Silver..." Lance’s breath shook, his body lighting up and reacting to every inflection of the man’s lips and fingers as though he was starved for it. The soft touch, the unabashed expression of desire, the affection that he’d craved so many years ago.

_So many years ago…_

_But not anymore._

_...right?_

“Whoa, hey... Stop- Stop-” Lance stiffened, coming to his senses for a confusing moment, and to his surprise, the man backed off.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” The man’s lips nuzzled his temple just above his ear.

“No, I-”

“No, stop, or no, you aren't sure?” The man cocked his head playfully. “What is it that you want, Lance?”

Intense eyes bored into him as if they could penetrate his mind and read his most private thoughts. Something in Lance faltered under that gaze. 

“I…” 

Long-suppressed emotions surged from cavernous depths unknown and suddenly Lance was drowning in a sea of silver and blue.

“I…” 

Witnessing this man, yes, his Silver, looking at him the way he’d always wanted him to… The way he thought he never would again… 

“I- I don’t know…” 

His voice barely more than a panicked whisper, Lance’s fingers tangled in the soft hair that was brushing over his knuckles and made a tight fist around the silvery locks.

The man tilted his head with something between sympathy and pity and just the tiniest shade of victory. He leaned in. Lance shut his eyes and braced for it, very nearly fell into it. 

“Well, when you do…” Breath tickled his lips instead. “Here’s where to find me.”

Lance blinked his eyes open and reflexively the took the object being extended to him. It was a business card. With an address and the initials L.S.D. written on the back of it.

“Enjoy your evening with your friends, Garrison boy.” A smug, self-assured smile flashed and suddenly the man was gone, leaving Lance alone in small room with his eyes fixed on the empty space where a wreath of silver hair had been.

Glancing again at the card in his hand, reality came roaring back to him.

_Holy fuck... Keith!_

In a flash, Lance snapped out of whatever trance that treacherous man always managed to put him under. Everything that had just happened smashed into him with tidal wave force, making his skin crawl and his toes curl. He’d almost... Lance lurched forward with a hand to his mouth and was very nearly sick.

He didn’t wait a moment longer to scramble to his feet. He had to get out of there.

His heart pounded wildly as he raced down the stairs. The nerve! How dare that man come off so kind and act so goddamn _familiar_ after everything he’d put him through! Lance hated who he turned into around him. Silver didn’t exist, he reminded himself for the umpteenth time. That man was a monster and Lance wasn’t going to let himself forget it. What the hell had he been thinking, seeking him out? What good could possibly come of it? 

Near the bottom of the stairs Lance slowed and stumbled to a stop, suddenly realizing what it was that he’d wanted. 

An apology. 

Or some sign of remorse for what he had done. 

But Lance knew better than to think that that man was ever going to give to him. Furious with himself for once again for being pulled into his vortex, he crumpled the business card in his hand. He didn’t want to keep it. He didn’t trust himself with it. But there wasn’t a trash can anywhere in the near vicinity and Lance didn’t want to risk leaving it on the floor in case someone else - or worse, Lotor himself - found it. He stuffed the crumpled card in his jacket pocket instead, like the garbage it was.

Skin still crawling for what he’d nearly done, he headed for the main part of the club. He needed to find Keith. He needed to find him _now._

 

It didn’t take long. Lance caught a glimpse of his boyfriend cozied up to Shiro in the less crowded back part of the club. He hurried over and stopped in front of them, gazing at Keith like he hadn’t seen him in years. 

“There you are!” Keith greeted him with a bright, very tipsy smile that slowly turned to mild concern. “You okay?”

Keith was practically sitting in Shiro’s lap, but Lance didn’t care. He walked right up to his boyfriend, grabbed him by the cheeks, and kissed him so hard that the inside of his lips hurt.

“Did I ever tell you you're the best thing that’s ever happened to me?” He whispered then kissed him again. Keith hummed happily against his lips and Lance felt them pull into a smile.

“Sorry Shiro, I'm stealing him,” Lance informed the third man.

“He’s all yours.” Shiro raised a half-empty pint of beer with a wide grin and watched the two lovebirds scurry off together.

“Tequila. Now.” Lance insisted and foisted is credit card at the nearest server carrying a tray of shots.

“I thought you had to drive home,” Keith reminded him.

“I don’t care. We’ll take a cab.” Lance grabbed as many shots as his hands could hold. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to get drunk with the man he loved.

 

Several shots a piece later, Lance’s hands were in Keith’s hair, pulling his face close. “God, I love you so much, Keith.” Lance peppered his boyfriend with soft kisses, pulled him in with desperate hugs, and showered him in every affection he could. Keith had saved him from doing something so immeasurably stupid more times than he knew.

“Look at those two,” Shay remarked adoringly to Hunk. “I should just hand them the bouquet now.” She leaned against her husband-to-be and looked on as her friends made out like hormonal teenagers.

Someone else was watching too, from above. A tall man dressed in black leaned against the railing overlooking the dancefloor, tapping his fingers on the metal, visibly frustrated. Four generals assembled around him.

“So much for your plan,” Acxa mocked.

“On the contrary,” he smirked so confidently that it edged into pompousness. “The seed has been planted. Give it time to come to fruition. In the meantime...” He pulled his eyes from the couple on the dancefloor and turned to his generals. “Let’s kick the pressure up a notch. Ezor, get his credit card number.”

“Already done.” She held up a slip of paper between her fingers. “What? He bought shots from me.” She said in response to Acxa’s dirty look.

“Excellent work, Ezor," Lotor commended her like a proud parent. "Now rack up some charges on behalf of the boyfriend.”

“Ohhhh! Shopping!” Ezor cried with excitement.

“What exactly is a petty shopping spree going to accomplish here?” Acxa folded her arms unimpressed.

“What's the number one thing couples fight over?” Lotor posed the question to his skeptical first-in-command.

“I wouldn’t know.” She narrowed her eyes.

“Money.” He answered for her with a devious quirk of his lip. “Now, let’s put some pressure on those purse strings. Zethrid,” he moved on to the next assignment. “Make sure they end up in your cab on the way home. I want a read on the state of their relationship.”

“Vrepit sa,” she saluted.

“Meanwhile, I’ll get back to actual business,” Acxa spat then sauntered off with a huff, taking Ezor and Zethrid with her.

Once they were gone, Lotor slumped against the railing again and lost all bravado. “God Narti, I hope this works.” 

The silent general tilted her head sympathetically and provided what comfort she could to her leader by way of an encouraging pat on the back.

 

\---

 

It was approaching last call and the night was wrapping up. Most of the group had gathered to figure out rides home. 

“Hey, has anyone seen Keith and Lance?” Hunk asked. The two were conspicuously missing.

“Front and center.” Matt pointed to where the pair were practically undressing each other on the dancefloor. The top three buttons of Keith's shirt were undone and Lance wasn’t much better off with his halfway untucked so Keith’s hands could get beneath it.

“Look at those drunk losers,” Pidge complained, rather sloshed and disheveled herself.

“And people say we’re bad…” Maria looked on with her, sporting a red mark on her neck that Pidge had given her earlier that night.

“I’d heard the stories, but damn,” Matt snickered with a kind of admiration for their shamelessness.

“This is nothing. You don’t know the half of it… I used to live with those guys,” Hunk grumbled.

Keith began pulling at the top of Lance’s pants and his fingers disappeared below the fold for a fraction of a second.

“Oh my, that's getting rather indecent. Perhaps we should intervene,” Allura suggested but made no move to do it herself. 

“Shiro, aren’t you gonna reign that in?” Pidge prompted the historically most responsible, dad-friend of the group.

“Not my monkeys, not my circus!” Shiro slurred mildly. Delighting in being off duty for the evening, he wrapped one arm around Allura and the other across Matt’s shoulders with the biggest grin plastered across his face. 

“Alright… I got ‘em.” Hunk sighed. Ironically the least drunk of the bunch, he stepped in to politely interrupt the couple’s increasingly intimate moment. 

 

 

“You were supposed to be our ride home!”

“Relax, spipsqueak, I’ll pay for your cab!”

“ ‘snot the point, Lansss!”

Stumbling over their words, Pidge and Lance bickered all the way out the door to where Hunk and Shay were ushering forth a line of taxis for their guests. 

“Alright, Pidge.” Her brother’s hand landed kindly on her shoulder. “It’s been a good night for everyone. No harm, no foul if everyone gets home safe, right?”

“Fine…” She grumbled and staggered towards an available cab with Maria.

“Don’t forget these!” Hunk handed Lance and Keith their jackets. 

“Thanks, man. This was a really good idea.” Overcome with emotions and swaying on his feet from being well-past tipsy, Lance hugged his friend again. Goodbyes were being said all around and Shiro stumbled over to them next.

“Keith…” Grinning goofily, he squeezed the smaller man's shoulders then tried to touch their noses together again. But, in his intoxicated state, missed completely and ended up bonking the sides of their foreheads together instead. 

“Ow! Get outta here, you lush!” Keith laughed and shoved him away.

A tender smile lingered a moment longer before Shiro turned to the other man next.

“Lance…” Shiro looked at him with gratitude in his eyes and wrapped him in his thick arms. Lance thought he heard his spine crack as Shiro hugged him. “Thank you. For everything.” A sloppy, wet kiss was left on Lance’s cheek before Shiro pulled away. “Party! WOO!” He hollered with his hands over his head then piled into the backseat of yellow cab with Matt and Allura.

“Wow, Shiro is _drunk…_ ” Lance remarked, wiping his cheek dry. 

A black town car honked and pulled up in font of them. Assuming it was their taxi ride home, the couple climbed into the backseat.

“Lance, Keith- Catch!” Shay ran over and tossed her bouquet in with them.

“What the hell?” Keith said, baffled by the bushel of flowers that skidded across his lap and into Lance's.

“Look, Keith, I got you flowers!” Lance held them out to his boyfriend and grinned wide at Shay, waving a thank you to her as the cab pulled away from the curb.

 

It wasn't until the car started moving that Lance realized how drunk he was, almost uncomfortably so. The world was spinning and every turn and veer of the car was unpleasant. Looking out the window wasn't helping so he turned to Keith for distraction and just happened to catch his boyfriend staring at him, drunk and in love. His smile broadened further when Lance’s eyes were on him.

“Hey, you,” Keith slurred, pulling off sultry incredibly well for someone so intoxicated.

“Oh, I know that look. Just wait until I get you home, Mr. Kogane,” Lance said confidently even though he was way too drunk to fuck. “Who’s more drunk right now, you or me?” He asked, wrapping an arm around Keith.

Keith pretended to hum thoughtfully then looked at him with bedroom eyes again and giggled, “Me.” His head lolled against Lance's shoulder and the look in his eyes shifted to something different. Something softer. Something more like love.

Lance’s chest swelled with emotion.

"Hey, you know what those flowers mean?" He asked, pointing to the bouquet in Keith's lap.

Keith shook his head.

“That I’m gonna ask you to marry me.” Intoxicated, he veered into what was front of mind.

“Yeah? When?” Keith’s response came with a delayed giggle.

“Soon. Real soon,” Lance promised. It was killing him to wait.

“How about now?” Keith’s daring grin almost convinced him to do.

“Oh, you're cute, but nah… I promised Hunk not tonight. Besides, ’sgotta be perfect. Like you.” Lance tried to tap Keith on the nose, missed, and poked his cheek instead.

“I’m not perfect,” Keith sighed sleepily and cuddled up to Lance’s shoulder. Seconds later, he was asleep against it.

Lance swept his dark hair to the side.

“Coulda fooled me," he whispered softly and kissed his passed out boyfriend’s forehead. 

A pair of eyes that had been watching them in the rear-view mirror flitted back to the road.

 

The couple was dropped off at their residence and the driver watched them stumble to their door. She switched off the recording device on her dash before picking up her radio.

“Ezor, you copy?”

“Copy. How'd it go?”

“Acxa might be right… It’s not looking good for Lotor.”

 

\--- 

 

Red whined a yawn and stretched her legs from her doggie bed in the corner when Keith and Lance got home, but she didn't get up. Lance made a pitstop in the kitchen for some water and the pair drunkenly stumbled to the bedroom. Lance dumped his jacket and the flowers on the desk while Keith let his fall onto the floor.

The world had stopped spinning for Lance during the ride home, but Keith still swayed on his feet.

“Here. You'll thank me tomorrow.” Lance handed him a tall glass of water, which he drank gratefully.

“One more dance.” Lance put on some down-tempo music on his phone while Keith chugged and pulled him close once he was done. They were both a bit too sloshed to move their feet while also keeping their balance and so settled on swaying cheek-to-cheek instead. 

_Alma mia._  
_Que te hace pensar que no te quiero…_  
_Si tu amor es la fuente que me inspira_  
_A vivir y sentirme tan feliz?_

“What is this song?” Keith asked.

“Shh…” Lance hushed him and hummed along to the melody, singing snatches of the words into Keith’s ear. 

_Alma, alma mía._  
_Ten confianza y comprende que te quiero…_  
_Si ya en ti se ha cifrado este cariño…_  
_De quererte con eterna devoción._

It was his parents wedding song. He’d heard it countless times growing up and caught them dance to it together in the kitchen when they thought no one was watching. Keith didn’t understand a word of it but smiled anyway. He’d never thought himself the type but loved what a romantic sap Lance could be.

By the end of the song, he was falling asleep on Lance’s shoulder. He nearly fell over sideways but stumbled awake mid-fall.

“Whoa, careful.” Lance caught him by the elbow.

“Hey…” Keith mumbled, rubbing one eye sleepily. “ ‘mm sorry I didn’t get you a ring.” 

“Aw, babe…” Lance’s insides melted at how sad he looked. “I don’t need one.” He squeezed Keith tight again. “I just need you. Besides…” He cracked a smile Keith couldn’t see. “I got one for you.”

“You got me a ring?”

Lance’s heart ached at how genuinely surprised he sounded.

“I did.” He nodded and kissed his temple.

“That's awesssssome.” 

Lance couldn’t help but snicker. Keith’s eyelids weren’t open evenly and despite his smile he was three blinks away from falling asleep on his feet again.

“Come on, it’s bedtime.” 

They toppled onto the mattresses together, neither of them bothering to change out of their clothes first and squirmed around to get comfortable. Lance lay on his back and Keith snuggled into his side. Peering at the love of his life through one tired eye, Lance was beyond relieved that Keith had been enthusiastic about the ring, yet when his eyes shifted to the ceiling he experienced a moment of self-doubt. Thinking back to how Hunk had recounted what a state he’d been in just before he proposing, Lance imagined himself in the moment and could already feel himself sweating.

“Keith… You’re gonna say yes, right? You’ll really marry me?”

“Baby…” Keith mumbled and flopped an arm around Lance’s torso, cinching him in tight. “Of course I will…” The thought trailed into a soft snore as he passed out draped over Lance’s chest, and Lance beneath him was bursting with happiness and grinning from ear to ear. Hearing Keith so sure when he was drunk as a skunk and on the edge of consciousness... It was all the assurance Lance needed to shut his eyes and go out like a light.

  


  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that was worth the wait, I hope? Lotor sure has his work cut out for him… He’s got a plan, but do you really think it’s going to work?
> 
> Deposit thoughts, concerns, predictions, and incoherent screeches in the comments below. Feedback is most appreciated Thank you for reading! :)
> 
>  **Next Chapter: Under Pressure**  
>  (It shouldn't so much of a wait before I next update.)
> 
>    
> Listen to the beautiful _Alma Mia_ by Benny Moré [ here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=27Sh9K6DxGE&feature=youtu.be).
> 
> Translation (by TheOneMaye):
> 
>  
> 
> _Soul of mine,_  
>  _what makes you think I do not love you_  
>  _when your love is my source of inspiration_  
>  _to live and feel ever so happy?_
> 
>  
> 
> _Soul, soul of mine,_  
>  _be confident and understand that I love you_  
>  _because this affection is already placed on you_  
>  _to love you with eternal devotion._


	4. Under Pressure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #### Please -  r - a - - **[u]** \- Responsibly
> 
> **Last chapter:** Lance had a run-in with Lotor, the dangerous man from his past, while Shiro and Keith got a little friendly in the bathroom - within the bounds of the rules, of course.  
>  Lotor’s been scheming and now he has Lance’s credit card information and is ready to use it to make trouble for our favorite couple. Proximity, pressure, persistence... That’s Lotor’s plan to get Lance back.
> 
>  **In this chapter:** Somebody falls victim to proximity, pressure, and persistence…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drops a U and watches you all lose your shit.
> 
> For those of you who _think_ you know what the title is, count those dashes and know that I’m choosing the revealed letters very carefully. ;)

  


  


Lance’s phone buzzed on the nightstand loudly enough to rouse him from a sweaty, uncomfortable slumber. Wincing from the pain in his head after a night of partying, he batted at the device to try to shut it up but ultimately gave in when it wouldn’t stop vibrating. Dry-mouthed and hurting, he peeked at the screen through one eye while he adjusted to the harsh morning light.

 _Fraud alert: Unusual activity detected_ , he read then poked at the screen to open the notification.

 _Jesus… How expensive were those drinks?_ He thought while reviewing the list of charges and the eye-opening total. He’d known it was going to be an expensive night but didn’t think it would be quite _that_ much. He was happy to splurge for Hunk and to see everyone have a good time, but it was going to put a dent in their budget for sure. With a sigh, he accepted the charges and tossed his phone aside. It wasn’t something he was going to worry about right that second. 

He lay back down to go back to sleep only to be plagued by a few other unpleasant recollections from the night before. An unexpected run-in with a certain old flame burned through his memory like wildfire and suddenly Lance was wide awake. Long, flowing hair danced behind his eyelids. A silky smooth voice echoed in his ears. The memory of his touch burned on his cheek and the tickle of soft strands ghosting over his knuckles cut like razors. Even his scent was fresh and acidic. A pang of longing sounded deep in Lance’s core and with a distressed groan, he forced it all out of mind and rolled over to snuggle up to Keith, hoping to chase away visions of the boogie man with cuddles.

Keith stirred in his arms.

“Hi…” Lance smiled weakly through the pain in his head when his boyfriend blinked his eyes open. Keith only managed to look at him for a second before he scrunched up his face and burrowed into Lance’s armpit, whimpering with regret. 

“You too, huh?” 

A muffled and disgruntled groan sounded from Lance’s side. 

“I’m sorry, babe.” He rubbed his back sympathetically.

Unsurprisingly, they were both hungover as hell, Keith seemingly moreso. Lance pried himself from the mattress to get the water and aspirin he’d set on the nightstand the evening before and Keith happily accepted the offering.

“I dreamt you spoke Spanish,” Lance mused idly, mangling his words with a yawn while stretching his arms overhead. “Wait no, that really happened. Holy shit! When did you learn- Ow!” He quickly curled up clutching the sides of his head, his enthusiasm having gotten the better of him in his hungover state.

Keith, dead as a log at his side and holding his head, didn’t respond.

“Hey, did we fuck?” Lance asked. A lot of the previous night was fuzzy after they’d left the club.

“Probably? I don’t even remember getting home,” Keith croaked in pain. “I guess that means you blacked out too?” He shot him a smug look. Keith, it seemed, was not above snark when he was suffering. Lance took it as a good sign; Keith would probably live.

“I must have. I don’t remember doing that,” Lance said and brushed a reddish mark on Keith's neck.

Keith touched his neck fast and hummed thoughtfully, not mentioning the possibility that it had come from Shiro.

“Uh, more importantly… Did we get hitched or something?” Keith pointed at the bouquet of flowers on the desk and sash that only showed the ‘Husband’ part of ‘Husband-To-Be’ from the way it was hanging off the chair.

“Huh?!” Lance whipped around to look, sending fresh pain ringing into his temples. “Oh, that’s Shay’s,” he said once he’d recovered. “You caught the bouquet, babe. You know what that means?” He teased mildly.

“Nope,” Keith said shortly and pulled a pillow over his head. It was too early for riddles.

“Oh, shit... Wait! Keith, show me your hands!” Lance cried, suddenly worried that a lack of inhibition had coincided with an overabundance of enthusiasm and he’d accidentally popped the question.

“Please stop being so loud.” Keith’s muffled voice came through the pillow while his headless body balled up around it.

“Keith… Show me.” Lance shook his leg.

With a laboring sigh, Keith peeled back the pillow, exposing himself to the blinding light and held up his hands, squinting.

“Well?” He asked, mildly annoyed while Lance inspected his fingers.

There was no ring. 

“Thank god.” Lance fell back to the bed with relief and rubbed his throbbing head. “Sorry. Just checking something.” He said in response to Keith’s expectant stare. Keith settled into place and pulled the pillow back over his head, intent on going back to sleep. Lance curled up next to him and did the same.

After a few minutes of tossing and turning, it became clear that his aching body wasn’t going to let him get any more rest, so Lance fought to overcome the momentum pulling him into the mattress and rolled his lanky body out of bed and onto his feet.

“Hey, where are you going?” Keith whined needily while Lance changed out of the uncomfortable clubbing clothes he’d slept in and into something more appropriate for daylight hours.

“I have to get the car...” 

“The car?”

“Yeah, we took a taxi.”

Lance filled the spot he’d vacated with a tall, rectangular box he’d also kept handy on the nightstand. “Here, got you some breakfast.” He kissed Keith’s ear.

“Oh my god, you’re the best.” Keith caught his hand and kissed it. “I love you,” he croaked as affectionately as his voice would let him before curling an arm around the box of CoCo Puffs left in place of his boyfriend.

Crumpling plastic packaging and the sound of happy munching put a smile on Lance’s face as he staggered on stiff legs out of the bedroom.

 

 

Blue was retrieved without incident from the valet, though the additional fee slapped on for parking overnight hurt about as much as Lance’s head. Once back in Blue, he adjusted his rearview mirror and gazed at the venue through it. So that was Silv- _Lotor’s_ club. Lotor or whoever the hell he was... Was it a solo venture or just one of many? Lance couldn’t help but wonder. Perhaps a replacement for what he’d had in the Komar District, though it wasn’t anything like the Empire G he remembered... Seedy and clandestine, teeming with hostility and prowlers looking for weak prey. The man had been different too. As furstratingly careful and cunning with his words as ever, but there’d been an honesty, a sincerity to him that Lance didn’t remember being there before. He’d seemed almost human, still clever and full of tricks, but not an insurmountable force like the version that lived in his head. It was then that Lance realized he wasn’t scared of him anymore, not in the same way, at least. But if Lance knew anything it was that he couldn’t be trusted around that man. Old wounds were still too sore, his body’s responses too ingrained. In an odd way, he was glad they’d run into each other, but under no circumstances did he _ever_ want it to happen again. That club - hell that whole block and its surrounding areas - were officially on Lance’s blacklist, just like the Komar district. No matter how much he might long for it, no matter how much he might wonder, no matter how many unanswered questions he wanted to chase, he could _never_ go back.

Lance fired up Blue’s engine and didn’t bother watching the club recede in his rear-view mirror as he drove away.

 

 

Later that afternoon, following much hydration and a slow morning devoted solely to recovery, Keith had migrated from the bed to their shared desk where he sat in front of the computer trying to pronounce sentences in Spanish. He quickly minimized the browser and put the box of CoCo Puffs over his notes when he heard the front door open. Lance appeared in the room a moment later carrying a stack of folded linens fresh from the laundry and requested his help making the bed in exchange for the revelation of _‘a riveting discovery’_.

 

“Shiro and Matt?” Keith repeated, full of disbelief, while he sat on one end of the bed, pinning the fitted sheet in place so Lance could wrangle the last corner of it safely underneath the mattress. “Are you crazy? There’s no way.”

“I may have been drunk off my ass, but I’m pretty sure I saw him get into a cab with Shiro and Allura last night.” Lance smirked knowingly at his boyfriend and handed him one side of the top sheet that was to be put in place next.

“Well, yeah, he’s staying with them...” Keith flicked the edges of the bedding to unfold it. “That doesn’t mean they’re-” His wrists hung limply while he thought about it.

“It just seems awfully convenient.” Lance continued to smirk while opening the sheet wide. “I’m telling you, Keith, with the way they were flirting-” 

“No. No, that can’t be true!” Keith cut him off and shook his head.

Lance’s half of the sheet slackened as he stopped to consider his boyfriend.

“Oh my god…”

“What?” Keith stared back blankly.

“Keith Kogane, you’re not…” 

Keith cowered slightly, sensing he was under suspicion.

“Oh my god, you totally are!” Lance’s face lit up like he’d overheard the juiciest piece of gossip. “You’re _jealous!_ ”

“What?!” Keith cried at the ridiculous accusation. “I am _not_ jealous,” he insisted firmly. But he was. A little, and Lance, with a victorious guffaw, saw right through his vehement denial.

“Oh, yes you are! Just look at you!” He pointed right at Keith’s lying, frowny face. “You’re mad he’s into someone other than you!”

“He’s into you too, Lance,” Keith retorted with the flaw in his logic. “And I could really care less if he and Matt are... doing whatever they’re doing. It’s none of my business,” he muttered and went back to uselessly faffing with the sheet.

“Jealousy, thy name is Keith,” Lance declared victory as affectionately as one can while gloating. He was mitigating the fact that he was a little hurt by Keith’s envy by giving him a hard time about it, and honestly, it was proving spectacularly effective.

Totally caught off guard by the situation and apparently out of comebacks, Keith was starting to panic and Lance read it on his face instantly.

“Whoa babe, relax. I’m teasing you,” Lance laughed gently. “Come on, I know all about your little crush on Shiro.”

“I _don't_ have a crush on him,” Keith insisted then tried and failed to flick the sheet up and onto the bed without Lance’s help. 

“You know, you’re a terrible liar, Keith,” Lance chuckled with mildly sadistic joy as his flustered boyfriend tried again and again to get the sheet in place and wondered how it was that Keith didn’t know he could read him like a book. “Oh, Keefy, you are just too cute. I bet _Shiwo_ thinks so too.” 

The obnoxious voice earned him one of Keith’s death glares.

_“Shiwo and Keefy sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-”_

“SHUT UP, LANCE!” 

A pillow was hucked in his direction and Lance caught it with a hearty laugh. 

“I don't feel that way, okay?” Keith said flatly, lowering his volume in an effort to calm himself. “Besides, there’s nothing to be jealous of. I’m pretty sure Pidge would have killed Shiro by now if that were true.”

“Well, you do have a point there.” Lance smiled and decided to let it go. He stopped torturing his boyfriend and switched his focus to helping Keith get the sheets properly on the bed instead. 

 

\----

 

_"Hey, you know what those flowers mean?"_

_Shuffling._

_“That I’m gonna ask you to marry me.”_

_“Yeah? When?”_

_“Soon. Real soon.”_

_“How about now?”_

_“Oh, you're cute, but nah… I promised Hunk not tonight. Besides, ’sgotta be perfect. Like yo-”_

A finger abruptly pressed stopped then scrubbed back through the audio file. 

_"Hey, you know what those flowers mean?"_

The recording started over again.

Three generals peered surreptitiously into their leader’s office where he sat hunched over a laptop with a cat in his lap, intently listening and seemingly unaware that anyone was watching him.

“How long has he been listening to that?” Ezor asked.

Zethrid shot her a look that said _‘don’t ask’_.

Narti held up two fingers.

“Two? Two what?” Ezor asked

 _Hours._ Narti typed with an amused giggle. 

“Yikes…” Ezor’s eyes went wide.

“Pretty much ever since I gave it to him,” Zethrid sighed.

“What are we gonna do about it?”

“I was hoping you had an idea,” Zethrid quipped. 

_Definitely not tell Acxa. That’s what._ Narti expressly typed and pushed her phone in both their faces.

“She's gonna find out sooner or later…” The pink-haired general warned.

“Ezor.” Their leader’s voice cut into their conversation, making all three of them jump. 

The other two quickly scurried away while Ezor took a moment to compose herself. Calmly, she stepped into her leader’s office. 

“Yeah, Lotor?”

The chair spun noiselessly and the man in it looked at her meaningfully.

“I trust that you still have certain... _information_ in your possession?”

She blinked at him.

“Yeah…”

“Excellent. Do some damage.” He nodded his orders.

“...how much damage?” She asked with a clever smirk.

“Not too much, but… _enough._ ”

She rubbed her hands together with a scheming grin and turned to leave, ready to get started.

“Oh, and Ezor…” 

She looked to him again.

“Be smart about it.”

She stared back blankly for a moment before a devious smile twisted across her lips. She indicated with a fist to her chest and an obedient _'Vrepit Sa’_ that she understood her orders.

 

\----

 

“Hey, you got another package.” Lance arrived home from work and tossed an Amazon box at Keith, who turned in the desk chair to catch it. There’d been a steady stream of them all week. Uncertain, Keith turned the box over a few times then tore into it and pulled out a pair of brand new, professional-grade boxing gloves that did _not_ look cheap.

“I don’t remember ordering these... Did you get them for me?” Keith looked questioningly at his boyfriend.

“What? No… Maybe they’re a gift? From Shiro or something?”

“Somehow I don’t think he would do that…” Keith turned one of the black gloves over in his hand, perplexed.

Lance fished the receipt out of the box. It was purchased in Keith’s name but charged to his credit card. Just like the last few packages Keith had gotten. And no, the gloves weren’t cheap. 

“Huh…” He muttered and handed the slip of paper to Keith with eyes that gently asked for an explanation.

“I- I don't know when I- Maybe when I was drunk or something- Sorry… I'll pay you back.” Keith awkwardly shoved the gloves back in the box.

“No, no. Don't worry about it,” Lance insisted and did his best not to reveal his rising stress levels. Money was tight enough already without all these surprise purchases, especially after buying that ring. “Hopefully this is the last of your little shopping spree. Maybe I need to tie you to the bed more often so you can't shop in your sleep,” he quipped suggestively, trying to make light of it.

Keith was too plagued with guilt to even smile at the joke.

 

 

It was late on a Saturday morning and Shiro and Keith had the gym to themselves. Keith wiped away the sweat dripping down his temple then heaved a heavy but satisfied sigh, happily exhausted after another one of Shiro’s brutal workouts. It had been a miserable week, one where he felt like he’d been disappointing Lance over and over again as the influx of packages hadn’t abated. Still paying for one drunken mistake, Keith was crossing his fingers and praying to gods he didn’t believe in that there weren’t anymore on the way. The gym was a happy distraction from his newfound fear of the mailbox, but there was something else bugging him too. Keith wasn’t usually one for gossip, but for some reason, what Lance had said about Matt and Shiro was really bothering him. He’d wanted to ask Shiro about it all week but wasn’t sure how to broach the subject. His intent had been to bring it up during their workout but he’d been too distracted by yet something else. Shiro was, to put it nicely, a bit more _hands-on_ after their little encounter at the club. No, scratch that, he was _a lot_ more hands-on. Shamelessly so. It wasn’t even subtle! His hands were more on him than not. It was shockingly unprofessional, not that Keith minded. After all, it was refreshing to see Shiro fall victim to a weakness for once, and a little part of Keith’s ego was smugly gloating because _he_ was that weakness. But still, what the hell was this thing with Matt?

“So Matt showed up last weekend. That was a surprise.” Keith edged into the topic while they wrapped up with some medicine ball sit-ups. He chucked the heavy sphere to Shiro who lay on the floor about ten feet away.

“Yeah, it's always good seeing him,” Shiro said mid-sit-up then threw the dense ball back at him.

“How long is he staying?” Keith did a sit-up and passed it back.

“He flew back the day after. It was a quick trip.” _Toss._

“Oh.” Keith paused after catching the ball. “He never sticks around for long, huh?” _Sit-up. Toss._

“Just long enough.” Shiro’s lip quirked as he fell back to perform another rep. 

Keith frowned. Shiro wasn't giving anything away and he didn’t know how to keep pressing without asking him outright. Lost in thought, Keith momentarily zoned out and so wasn't ready to catch the fifteen pound ball that came cannonballing back at him from Shiro’s strong arms.

“KEITH, WATCH OU-”

“OOF-” It hit him square in the chest, knocking the wind out of him and flattening him to the floor.

“Keith! Are you okay?” Shiro was at his side in an instant, voice wrought with concern.

“Ow…” Keith groaned, a little dazed. “Sorry- Wasn’t- Wasn't paying- attention.” He gasped for air between words, painfully replenishing the void left in his lungs and came up clutching his bad shoulder.

“Easy, don’t get up too fast.” Shiro carefully helped him sit upright and began checking for injuries, feeling down his chest bone and then along ribs, his fingers pressing and palpating, checking for pain. “That hurt?”

Keith shook his head. 

“How ‘bout your shoulder?” He picked up Keith’s arm and began rotating the joint.

“It's fine.” He winced as the joint hit the angle that always gave him trouble. “No worse than usual, at least.”

Shiro gently put his arm back down and instructed him to relax for a second while prodding the muscles in his back that he always held tight. Keith had to consciously focus on letting his shoulders roll back to do what Shiro had asked and stiffened slightly as his fingers found the tender spot under his shoulder blade that was always tense.

“There it is,” Shiro said and continued loosening the knot. 

Keith released a soft sigh and let his head drop forward, enjoying the moment. It finally didn’t hurt to breathe anymore.

“Alright, I think you’re done for today.” Shiro gave him one last squeeze then helped him up. “Come on. Let’s hit the showers.”

Keith wobbled on his feet then started to follow him to the locker room. He stopped abruptly when something in the back of his mind cried a warning. Sure, they'd showered together before, but not since things had become… intimate. And him and Shiro alone in the locker room after the way their session had gone? Something told Keith that wasn’t a good idea.

“Um... Actually, I gotta go.” He hastily returned to his gym bag and was painfully aware that Shiro’s eyes were on him while he packed it.

“Uh, hey, Keith… There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

Keith froze in the middle of zipping up his duffel bag.

“Yeah?” He prompted cautiously and slowly dragged the zipper the rest of the way shut.

“I was wondering if you might be willing to do me a favor.”

 _A favor…_ Keith gulped at where this was going.

“Um, Shiro, look…” He stood up and slung his bag over his shoulder, ready to make a quick exit because honestly there were a lot of _favors_ he wouldn’t mind doing but knew that for Lance’s sake he _definitely_ shouldn't.

“Ah- Ah- Hang on.” Shiro stopped him. “You don't have to say yes, but just hear me out.”

Keith nervously reset his gym bag, listening.

“The thing is, I'm gonna be on my own here for a few weeks…” 

Keith stiffened. Shiro looked nervous. _Why did Shiro look nervous?_

“My assistant coach is out for a few weeks, and well… I could use some help with the kids’ classes. Think you can fill in for him?”

“Oh…” Keith blinked. That was entirely more reasonable than what he'd been bracing for. He instantly relaxed and even laughed at himself for jumping to conclusions. Who was he kidding? Shiro wasn't the type to go around asking for _‘favors’_. “You know I’m not great with kids, right?” Keith reminded him.

“I’m aware that you think you’re not.”

Keith’s lip twitched upwards in response to the sly and mildly flirtatious look Shiro was giving him. “You sure you don’t just want me around here more often?” He turned on the flirting a little harder than he meant to.

“I'll admit that’s a perk,” Shiro chuckled at the forwardness. “But I really could use the help. A dozen and change six year-olds is a lot, even for me. I promise it will be just as grueling as a regular workout and I can pay you for your time,” Shiro tried to entice him.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll think about it,” Keith said, which for him usually meant no. He wasn’t totally comfortable accepting Shiro’s money.

“Hey, Keith… One more thing.” Shiro caught him by the back of the neck just as he turned to leave and gently pressed their noses together. “Good work today. Take care of that shoulder, okay?” 

The tenderness in Shiro’s voice and the sheer closeness of his face, his eyes, his breath caught Keith totally off guard. The unexpectedness of it and the complete absence of alcohol in his system that he’d been armed with the last time had his cheeks flushing and sent his heart racing.

“O-Okay... See- See ya.” Keith nearly tripped over his own feet as he backed out the door. God, Shiro could be cute. _Dangerously_ cute.

 

\----

 

While Keith was off doing his own thing, working out with Shiro and whatever he had planned after that - he hadn’t said, Lance was enjoying a relatively uneventful Saturday morning. He’d spent some time catching up on errands and planned to take Red to the dog park next since the weather was so nice. He’d already rolled up his sleeves and put on a pair of shorts to even out his tan.

“You think he'd suspect a beach-side picnic?” Lance held his phone to his ear, balancing a latte and his keys in the other hand as he walked back to his apartment from the coffee shop, deep in conversation with Hunk. They were scheming about how they were going to whisk Keith away for a day trip without him realizing it was so Lance could propose. “Nah, not on his birthday. It’s too obvious.” 

“No, I don’t want to find somewhere closer. It has to be _that_ spot, Hunk.”

“Because it’s perfect, that’s why!”

“I don’t care if it’d be easier! This is non-negotiable.”

“The weekend after his birthday? You know that’s not a half-bad-”

Lance stopped short of his doorstep.

“Hey, Hunk, I gotta go…”

There were no less than twelve cardboard boxes sitting on his porch, and Lance had a sneaking suspicion that none of them were for him.

“What the fuck, Keith…”

 

 

Keith came home several hours later and didn’t notice right away that Lance was upset.

“Hey, I’m home,” he spouted his ordinary greeting and patted Red’s side when she trotted over to him, not noticing that across the room his boyfriend sat slumped back on the couch with his arms crossed, silently watching him. Keith did think it was weird that Lance didn’t say anything back right away but didn’t make much of it. He dropped his keys in the dish on the counter then started going through the notifications on his phone.

“Is there anything you wanna tell me?” Lance asked from the couch.

“Wha-” Keith whipped around, immediately thinking that Lance somehow knew exactly where his mind had gone when Shiro had asked him for a favor, but instead his eyes fell on an array of opened boxes, the contents of which were scattered on the floor throughout the living room. A huge tub of protein powder, an even bigger bulk pack of CoCo Puffs, several packs of rather pricey men’s underwear, a particularly flamboyant jockstrap paired with _way_ more condoms than even they could ever need, four sets of hunting knives, a brand new iPad, two bottles of _really_ expensive Tequila, and finally a bag of tennis balls, one of which Red was already chewing on. “What the hell is all this?” Keith asked, thoroughly confused.

“You tell me. Because it looks like your entire Amazon wish list just showed up on our doorstep,” Lance snapped. “Been shopping lately?” 

“Huh?” Keith was instantly thrown off by Lance’s tone. “I didn’t order any of this…”

“According to my credit card you did,” Lance snorted.

“Well, maybe someone else got ahold of your number.” 

“Why the hell would they send anything here, Keith? Besides, it’s all addressed to you.” Lance refolded his arms and shot him a look that was more hurt than angry.

Keith was too shell-shocked to know what to say. It was rare for Lance to be so snippy with him.

“Look,” Lance sighed heavily. “I don’t mind you using my card from time to time-”

“I never use that without asking first!” Keith interjected.

“But we have to be a bit more mindful of expenses right now.” Lance kept talking as if Keith hadn’t said anything. “I’m- _We_ are trying to save money, and all of _this_ -” He gestured at the pile of goods before him. “Isn’t helping!”

“I _know_ we’re trying to save money! You don’t have to keep reminding me!” Keith snapped.

“We just finished paying off your speeding tickets and there’s like $1500 worth of stuff here, Keith!” Lance raised his voice for the first time. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I didn’t do this!” Keith cried but Lance just stared at him, disappointed.

“Lance…” Keith took a moment to control his emotions. “Okay, I don’t know what’s going on here, but I didn’t order this stuff. Cancel your card if you don’t believe me.”

Lance rubbed his brow. It was baffling enough that Keith had suddenly turned into a shopaholic but it was even more confusing that he would lie about it. None of it made any sense.

“Okay, fine.” Too annoyed to keep arguing, Lance began stuffing the items back into their respective boxes. “Maybe we can return some of it. Just please tell me you were at least looking for a job today?”

“Um, not yet…” Keith wished he’d lied instead after the look of disbelief Lance hurled his way.

“What the hell have you been doing then?!”

“I don’t know... Stuff...” _Practicing Spanish._

Lance was visibly annoyed with that answer.

“Okay, okay. I’ll find something.” Keith placated him with a promise then hurried into the bedroom to presumably do just that, but Lance honestly didn’t know what to think anymore.

As soon as he sat down at the desk, Keith fired off a text to Shiro.

Keith: the gig with the kids next weekend, how much does it pay?

 

 

And so it was that the following weekend Keith stepped into Shiro’s gym to find it inhabited by a herd of screaming, hyperactive children that barely came up to his middle. It was a scene of utter chaos. They were everywhere, climbing on equipment, swinging from the bars, rolling around on the floor... A couple of them had even gotten into the chalk and were creating white plumes of dust with gleeful laughter when they clapped their hands. Keith groaned with dread and wondered what he’d gotten himself into. 

In typical Keith-at-work fashion, he’d shown up late and waited off to the side while Shiro rounded up all the noisy, troublesome munchkins and somehow got them to listen to instructions. Keith watched while Shiro led them through a series of warm-ups, and to his surprise, Shiro was pretty great with the kids. It was a side of him he hadn’t seen before and had him tilting his head with a smile. It reminded him of how Lance was with his nieces and nephews from what he’d seen over Skype when Lance visited home. Keith drew a deep breath, summoning all the patience he could find. If Lance’s stories about his sister’s kids were even remotely true, he was going to need it. To further bolster his resolve, Keith reminded himself again why he was there. Painstakingly, he’d looked up each item he’d supposedly ordered only to find that _none_ of them were returnable. Lance had been pretty pissed about that. Keith had expected at least some of it to be offset by the fact that he’d busted his ass that week and found a job waiting tables at a nearby diner, but rather dishearteningly, Lance still hadn’t been happy.

 _“A diner? You have an astrophysics degree. You can get a better job than this,”_ he had said.

 _“Are you serious? It’s just temporary,”_ Keith had protested, rather miffed. _“You told me to get a job so I found one.”_

 _“Yeah, but this is just… Well, it’s kinda dead end.”_ That had stung. And the fact that  
Lance was trying to be nice about it moreso.

They’d argued. It had gotten ugly. 

_“We have enough to pay rent and we’re not going to starve, so what’s the big deal?”_ Keith had finally snapped.

_“Because we need to save money!”_

_“For what? You always say that!”_

_“Jesus, Keith. For our future! Way to make me out to be the asshole here!”_

Keith hadn’t liked that. Not one bit. _“I’m late for the gym,”_ he’d snarled and shoved past Lance to retrieve his gym bag from the bedroom and hadn’t bothered looking at him when he stormed back out of it.

Keith groaned to himself remembering the unpleasantness that had transpired earlier that morning. Thankfully, though, it had turned a corner from there.

 _“Keith, hey.”_ Lance had stopped him by gently grabbing his wrist on his way to the door. “I’m sorry, okay?” 

_“Are you ashamed of me?”_ He’d finally verbalized what he’d been worried about and hadn’t been able to look at Lance when he said it. _“Your deadbeat boyfriend that can't keep a job?”_

_“What? Babe... No! I just don't want you to be miserable again. You hate this kind of work.”_

Keith’s features softened in the gym just as they had in the moment while he relived the conversation in his head.

 _“I want you to find something that you like,”_ Lance had continued. _“Or at least, something that you don’t actively hate. But babe, I could never be ashamed of you.”_

The look in Lance’s eyes had made him feel both so loved and so unworthy at the same time. Keith had hugged him tight after that. Lance really was too good to him.

All in all, the fight over package-gate had ended well enough. They’d both managed to vent some frustrations and Keith caught himself smirking at the incredible makeup sex they’d had after. It may have been the reason he’d been late. Things were looking up, but Keith did want to do his part and start contributing more. He didn’t want to let Lance down again either. And so there he was, preparing to coach a bunch of kids with absolutely no confidence in his ability or any idea what he was doing.

He heaved a sigh and checked back in. Shiro was lining the kids up, grouping them by height for some reason. Suddenly all eyes turned to him and Keith realized he was being introduced.

“Everyone say _‘Hi, Coach Keith!’_ ” Shiro cried.

“Hi, Coach Keith!” Came a rousing chorus of young voices.

“Uh… Hi.” Keith waved awkwardly and cringed. One of the kids in the front was picking his nose.

“Okay, cadets. See that line behind you?” Shiro pointed at a strip of tape about fifty feet across the gym. “Your goal is to keep me and Coach Keith from crossing it, just like we talked about.” He took his place next to Keith. “Ready?”

“Wait, what?!” Keith started realizing he’d missed the entire explanation of what they were doing.

“Go!” Shiro didn’t wait for him and blew his whistle, unleashing a stampede of crazed six year-olds upon them. Three of them immediately began climbing Keith like a tree and he struggled to keep his balance while four others clamped onto his legs.

“Shiro, what the fu-” Keith quickly caught himself, remembering who he was coaching. “I did not sign up for this!” He protested while trying to take a step forward, pulling two kids attached to his ankle and shrieking with laughter with him.

“Think of it as creative weighted carries,” Shiro laughed with several halfling-sized bodies swinging from his arms and proceeded to take a difficult step forward. “I promised it’d be a workout, didn’t I?”

“I hate you so much right now!” Keith yelled over the ruckus from the kids. He grit his teeth and did his best to keep up with Shiro.

 

 

Forty-five minutes later, near the end of class, Keith was thoroughly wiped and felt like he’d been mowed over by a bus. The kids were relentless. He slumped, sweaty and disheveled on a bench while Shiro gave his cadets a closing pep talk. After wiping what he was pretty sure was somebody’s snot off his face, he discovered that the side of his leg was inexplicably sticky. He’d never felt more disgusting in his life and couldn’t fathom why anyone would ever want to be responsible for one of those hellions twenty-four seven. That was going to be a hard pill for Lance to swallow, if he decided he didn’t want kids anytime soon. _Or ever._ He fretted, thinking it would probably be a deal-breaker.

Shiro dismissed the class and the kids scattered to their respective waiting parents. A shy girl with dark, uneven pigtails that looked a good bit younger than the rest of the crowd wandered over to Keith and stood in front of him. She looked up at him expectantly.

“Uh… Which one are you again?” Keith asked tiredly, trying his best not to sound too grumpy.

“Nora,” she said quietly and held something out to him. A flower sticker. Shiro sometimes handed them out after class, and Keith got the feeling she wanted him to take it.

“For me?” He asked carefully and, feeling rather touched, took it delicately from her tiny fingers. She smiled after then scuttled off to her two waiting moms and started telling them excitedly about her new Coach Keith.

Keith was rather stunned by the gesture and couldn’t stop a warm smile from breaking across his face. Snot and ear-piercing shrieks aside, some of those kids were pretty damn sweet and so innocent it made something in his chest ache. The thought that he and Lance could have something like that in their lives had him, rather frustratingly, tearing up. He pressed the sticker to the back of his phone and was forced to admit that maybe he’d be okay with having kids after all. No, not maybe. He brushed his fingers over the purple flower. He _wanted_ that future. He _wanted_ a family with Lance.

Shiro, having proudly watched the exchange came up beside him on his way to the locker room. 

“Not great with kids, huh?” He ruffled Keith’s hair and playfully shoved his head away 

Experiencing way more feels than he’d signed up for from a workout class, Keith trailed after Shiro. He was way too gross to go anywhere without showering first.

 

 

To avoid temptation and at Keith’s request, they took turns in the shower. He went first while Shiro waited in a towel on a locker room bench, fiddling with his phone.

“So? Wasn’t too terrible, right?” Shiro looked up from his phone to inquire when Keith emerged from the shower bay.

Still feeling rather drained, Keith looked at him and had to put in effort to pull his eyes away as they started to drift down Shiro’s torso. He cleared his throat before answering.

“Nah, it was actually kinda fun.”

“Wanna help me out regularly until my coach comes back?” 

“Maybe… I gotta think about it.”

“Take your time.” Shiro smiled at him then finished typing something. “By the way, this is for you.” He handed Keith an envelope with cash inside. It was more than Keith had been expecting.

“Thanks…” He muttered awkwardly and shoved the envelope in his bag.

“No problem.” Shiro moved to get up. “Happy to- Jeez…” He quickly turned away after he stood up.

“What- Oh!” Keith blushed when he saw why Shiro had turned away. The small gym towel didn’t do a very good job of concealing the massive erection he was rocking. Keith bit his lip and tried not to snicker. “Is that for me too?”

“Sorry… It happens.” Flustered, Shiro adjusted his towel and quickly excused himself to the showers.

 _Does it now…_ Keith thought, rather pleased with himself, and watched him go. He pulled his eyes away and stared at the floor between his feet. Wiggling his toes, he wet his lips then glanced back to the showers again.

Keith couldn’t explain why he did it... Maybe it was because he knew how much Shiro wanted it or because he’d seen Shiro’s phone on the bench flash with a text from Matt a moment prior. Or maybe he was just too exhausted and braindead in that moment to think clearly and it was too damn hot not to... Whatever the reason, Keith got up off that bench and followed after Shiro into the shower.

“Hey…” He came up behind him while the water was already running and touched a hand to the small of his back, letting the other slip around the front of his hip.

“Keith, what-” Shiro jolted and grabbed his wrist.

“Shh. Hands only, right?” Keith whispered, feeling his way down.

At a loss for words, Shiro fell forward, leaning against the wall, and guided Keith’s hand into position. The metallic clang of his arm on the tile a moment later echoed in the locker room along with his shaking breath.

 

 

Keith lay awake in bed that night recounting some decisions he’d made earlier in the day.

“Lance… You awake?” He asked timidly.

“Mm…”

“The rules with Shiro… Hands only is still okay, right?”

“Mm,” Lance grunted.

“Can I get more than a _’mm’_?”

Lance shifted awake beneath the blankets and scooched closer to Keith.

“We should have him over again sometime, huh? It’s been a while.” He stretched his legs with a voiced yawn then settled on his side, rolling over to spoon Keith. “But yeah, babe. Hands only is fine. As long as you’re not, like, making out or whatever, I don’t mind him touching you.”

That was all the reassurance Keith needed to hear to put his conscience at ease. He put his hand over Lance’s at his chest and swiftly fell asleep.

 

 

Keith had his first shift at the diner later that week leaving Lance with a free evening, which he was taking full advantage of and using to scheme.

“Hunk, you're a genius!” Lance laughed and slapped his best friend on the back. It had taken weeks of careful planning and deliberation but they'd finally figured it out. They were going to sneak Keith away to the ocean-side spot where Lance wanted to propose under the guise that they were meeting Hunk and Shay for an engagement photo shoot. Little would Keith know that it was actually _his_ engagement photo shoot too. They could all take pictures together. It’d be the bromance/romance event of the century! And it was all happening in a few weekends, just four days after Keith's birthday, so there was no way he'd see it coming! It was perfect! 

“Easy there, buddy. You’re gonna want to start rehearsing what you’re gonna say,” Hunk cautioned him. 

“Don’t worry, Hunk.” Lance confidently brushed him off, thinking of the copious notes and drafts he had hidden in a drawer he knew Keith never looked in. “I got this.”

He cracked open a fresh beer and kicked back to enjoy his evening with his best friend.

 

 

It was early on a weekend morning a couple weeks later and Keith was leaving his apartment to hit the gym with Shiro. Pissed off as all hell, he slammed the car door shut after getting in, not caring if it woke the neighbors, then jammed the seatbelt into the fastener with more force than was necessary to safely buckle himself in. The first few weeks at his new job hadn’t gone well. He’d messed up more than a few orders, yelled at a rude customer, and undercharged a table on at least two occasions. He’d only worked a handful of shifts but was already well on his way to getting fired. It was pathetic. Why was he like this? It didn’t help that he was expecting the termination hammer to drop later that evening during his next shift, which he’d woken up dreading. Especially since just the previous night he’d had to beg his manager to give him one more chance after ringing up another bill incorrectly during a disastrously busy Friday night full of rowdy, obnoxious teenagers. His manager had begrudgingly agreed to it and Keith had woken up to a text saying that the difference was going to be taken out of his paycheck, so he was already down sixty bucks in the equation and if that wasn’t just the cherry on top of his already foul mood. Lance had picked up on the fact that his new job wasn't going great, but he’d been so upbeat lately that Keith hadn't had the heart to tell him the full extent of it. His shoulders sagged in the driver's seat. He was going to be so disappointed when he found out.

Keith showed up to the gym that morning ready to have his body thrashed.

“You alright?” Shiro asked, already knowing the answer after taking one look at his demeanor.

“No,” Keith growled and threw down his gym bag. “I need you to fucking destroy me.”

Shiro chuckled at Keith's particular brand of enthusiasm and slapped his hands together. “I’ll see what I can do.”

 

\----

 

Lance woke up happy and excited and feeling oddly complete even though he was alone in the bed - Keith had already left for the gym. It had been a blissful couple weeks. A huge weight had been taken off his shoulders now that he’d solidified his plans for how and when he was going to propose, and he’d been counting down the days until he was alone with Keith on that cliff that overlooked the ocean ever since.

Lance put his face in his hands and his smiling cheeks press against his palms. He couldn’t believe it... One more week… In just _one more week_ he and Keith would finally be engaged and could start planning their wedding and the rest of their lives together. Lance didn’t know how he was going to contain himself through the final stretch. He was already bursting with excitement.

He snapped his fingers. With pancakes and bananas. That’s how he was gonna do it. He had to distract himself, stay busy and all that, and making Keith’s favorite breakfast - that didn’t come out of a cereal box - was the perfect way to do just that. He leapt out of bed to hop in the shower before he started cooking, looking forward to enjoying a late brunch with his future fiance when he got home.

 

\---

 

A grueling hour later and Shiro had more than delivered on his promise of destruction. Endless mountain climbers, heavy thrusters, and a killing blow of death by burpees had Keith a gasping, panting mess facedown and dripping with sweat on the floor. But he was finally too tired to care about his miserable time at work. Shiro, too, was breathing heavily and crouched on his heels next to him. 

“One more round.” Keith struggled to get to his knees but his determination didn’t waver.

Shiro’s hand landed on his shoulder. “Easy there. Save some energy for the kids.”

Keith slumped back to the floor. He'd forgotten he was supposed to help with that later.

“You gonna be alright?” Shiro asked.

“Yeah. I’ll manage.”

“Shower?” Shiro offered.

“Please,” Keith groaned and let Shiro help him to his feet.

 

 

Taking turns had become a formality, and Keith came out of the shower with his towel riding low on his hips, making Shiro, who was waiting for him, similarly clad on the end of one of the locker room benches, do a double take.

“Wow...” he breathed, earning a mildly disgruntled snort from Keith.

“You don't swear, do you?” Keith remarked. It was something he’d picked up on while they’d been exploring the bounds of the ‘hands only’ rule now that they had Lance’s clear approval. On this occasion, Keith had been hoping to inspire something a bit more impassioned than _‘wow’._

“I try to express it in other ways,” Shiro explained and slowly looked him up and down.

“How ‘bout if I do this?”

A sly smile in place, Keith didn’t think twice about dropping his towel to the floor and swinging a leg over the bench to straddle Shiro's thighs.

“Double wow,” Shiro breathed and wasted no time in hooking his metal arm around Keith’s waist, pulling him into place. He touched their noses together in a substitute kiss and Keith’s eyes fell shut with a soft giggle.

“I'm feeling a lot better,” Keith told him.

“Yeah?” Shiro smiled happily.

“Yeah.” He put his arms over Shiro's shoulders and slowly drew the tip of his nose along the length of Shiro's. “So Matt, huh?” He finally asked.

“Matt?” Shiro laughed with surprise. Keith felt Shiro’s weight shift beneath him, bringing their naked hips closer together. “What about him?” 

“You and him are…”

Shiro huffed a teasing laugh. “Me and him are what?”

A trail of warm kisses was left down Keith’s neck sabotaging his ability to get the words out.

“Mmm… Nevermind.” He curled forward with a soft moan, clinging to Shiro’s broad shoulders and dropped his hand into the space between their bodies. Shiro’s frame shuddered at his touch. Keith knocked their noses together again with a lazy, satisfied smile when Shiro’s hand moved to touch him too.

The shared friction between their legs soon had their hearts pumping and their breath echoing through the empty locker room. Fierce, open-mouthed kisses were left on necks, jawbones, earlobes, anywhere that wasn't strictly off-limits. Keith’s free hand clawed for traction, pulling their bodies closer, but Shiro backed off creating a lull in the passion with a crooked smile playing on his lips. He was trying to drag it out as he liked to do. With a twitch of a smirk, Keith flicked his wrist just so, upping the pace and making Shiro curl forward and crash their foreheads together with a breathy cry of his name.

The heated whisper hit against his bottom lip and Keith trembled with want. Shiro - and his wet, gasping mouth - was right there. As if to put the suggestion out there, Shiro daringly darted his lips closer but didn’t cross the invisible barrier between them. Keith didn’t take the bait but he didn’t back down either. Joined by the tips of their noses, they were gasping into each other's mouths, tasting each others breath, and breathing the same air. Out of the corner of his eye Keith could make out Shiro's desperate eyes locked on his. Determined not to buckle under the pressure, he moistened his lips and tried to focus on what he was doing with his hand instead. Shiro followed his lead and the sudden shift in intensity sent a fresh rush through Keith’s system. His body jerked suddenly, snapping his head forward and sending his face crashing right into Shiro's. Their lips collided and pressed together askew in an off-centered meeting of the mouths that wasn't a kiss per se... Keith froze, not knowing what to do. Shiro seemed equally unsure. Keith dropped his jaw to gasp for air but didn’t pull away. Their bottom lips brushed together by the laws of proximity alone and Keith’s brain shorted out. That wasn’t allowed…

But it was alright, he told himself. It was just an accident. They weren’t really kissing.

 

They weren’t.

 

They weren't…

 

They were.

 

They were kissing. 

The way Shiro tilted his head and brought their mouths together with better alignment cemented it. And Keith, leaning into it and letting his eyes fall shut, was no less complicit. 

Sealed at the lips, their bodies melded together with a shared sigh that reverberated an emphatic _'finally’_ onto the locker room walls. Keith’s lips turned to putty and he gave in to the sensation that ripped through his body when Shiro's tongue brushed into his mouth. Shivering, Keith welcomed it with a faint moan and the next thing he knew he was coming. Swept up in heat and adrenaline and feverishly gripping the back of Shiro's head, he was coming and moaning and melting into the long-awaited kiss with Shiro.

Their lips finally broke when Keith had to pull away for air and to utter a breathy curse. Limbs and lips tingling, his body twitched against the other man through the tail-end of orgasm. And Shiro, not far behind him, gasped his name against his neck then moved to hungrily kiss him again. Keith's eyes lidded partway shut in a post-orgasmic haze, and then, a fraction of a second later when he realized what they were doing, they burst open with a frantic, inwardly cried, _'Oh, shit! No!’_

With something akin to magnetic propulsion, Keith launched backwards off the bench and away from Shiro while the other man was still coming and stood watching him finish, with one horrified hand clasped over his mouth.

They were over the line. They were _so far_ over the line it might as well have been the horizon!

Shaking with shock, Keith snatched up his previously discarded towel to wipe the cum off his stomach. “We can't- We can’t do this anymore,” he stammered, voice trembling with regret as he stumbled into his shorts.

“Keith, wait-” Shiro gasped from the bench, hand still on dick, but Keith grabbed his shirt, slung his gym bag over his shoulder, and was out of there before Shiro had drawn his next breath. “Keith!” 

Shiro made it to the front windows just in time to see Blue's screeching tires peel out of the parking lot. Dismayed, his shoulder fell slack and he uttered a curse - one of only a handful in his lifetime - as Keith disappeared from view.

 

 

Keith had Blue redlining faster than his blood pressure. He'd fucked up. He'd fucked up so badly. There had been one rule - ONE RULE - he'd sworn to never break. And he'd plowed right through it, smashing it to smithereens. Lance was going to kill him.

His phone buzzed with a text and Shiro’s name appeared in the notification bar. With a rage-filled cry, Keith promptly hurled the wretched device to the floor beneath the passenger seat and hoped it shattered there.

Furious with himself and even more furious with Shiro, he flipped his eyes back to the road and floored it. Blue sputtered momentarily then surged forward with a shift in gear accompanied by a higher-pitched hum of her engine. Blowing past the other cars on the road, knuckles tight and white on the wheel, Keith burned rubber, weaving in and out of traffic with no regard for laws, speed limits, or potentially lurking police officers. Flying blind to all else but getting home to Lance as fast as possible, he was fighting to keep it together, choking back a sob one second, curbing the urge to punch the steering wheel the next, and shouting with misguided rage at the cars in his way inbetween, all the while his brain, his heartbeat, his breath, every biological process, every fiber of his being pulsed with the same panicked chorus:

_I fucked up…_

  


_I fucked up…_

  


_I fucked up…_

  


  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _“Somebody falls victim to proximity, pressure, and persistence…”_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> I bet you didn’t think it’d be Keith.
> 
>  
> 
> My power level is putting slow burn Sheith in a Klance AU.
> 
> (It's still a klance AU kjakjsfjs Calm down and sit tight through (and maybe even enjoy?!) the multiship parts.)
> 
>  
> 
> Next chapter: **A Drop in the Ocean**
> 
>  
> 
> REQUEST FOR FEEDBACK! My confidence really took a beating while working this chapter... I was trying to do a and I'm worried it was it too much? Did it make sense? Could you follow it? I try to make each update as good as I can, but I need some help. 
> 
> Let me know if there's ever a part where:  
> \- it's unclear what's happening  
> \- you don't know who's talking or performing an action  
> \- a plot point/passage where you go "oh, I see what they were going for here but they didn't really pull it off..."  
> \- the indentation or spacing seems off  
> \- the timeline is confusing
> 
> This would be _much_ appreciated and ultimately mean better chapters for you to read in the future! [I'm also happy to hear you yell about the parts you think I did well!! :) :) ]


	5. A Drop in the Ocean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #### Please -  r  **[e]** a - - u - Responsibly
> 
> Keith fucked up by kissing Shiro. He fucked up and he knows it. But is he going to tell Lance? Yeah, he is. Keith learned in PMASR the damage and unnecessary stress secrets can cause, so he’s going straight home to tell his boyfriend what he's done. (If he doesn’t get in a car accident or arrested first… road rage much?)
> 
> But Lance’s reaction might not be what you’d expect. After all, maybe in the grand scheme of things, a single stray kiss is just... a drop in the ocean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter might be a tear-jerker.
> 
> I haven’t been responding to comments so far because I wanted to let you all draw your own conclusions and not steer you in a certain direction or reveal too much, but there’s a few things I’d like to address:
> 
> Some of you are reading this series like Shiro is meant to be the perfect example of polyamory and let me make it abundantly clear that HE’S NOT. Yes, he’s more experienced, but no one - regardless of their experience level - is infallible and Shiro is currently _crumbling_ under his weakness for Keith. (Maybe this isn’t the first time he’s fucked up a situation like this too… MORE ON THAT LATER!) I’m trying to make characters appear HUMAN and HUMANS make mistakes. HUMANS are not perfect communicators. Keith especially struggles with this. Hopefully you can see growth on that front but I'm still leaving plenty of room for error.
> 
> I’m also not trying to paint anyone as the bad guy here (except maybe Lotor, fuck that guy... for now, but MORE ON THAT LATER TOO!) So let’s all just chill, let them make some mistakes, and maybe even love them for their flaws. I’m trying to tell an interesting, complex story here, not write the guide to flawless polyamory.
> 
> Also, I will DEFINITELY be responding to comments on this chapter. So bring ‘em on!

  
 

  
 

The tires of a blue Toyota Corolla screeched as it drifted around the corner, the tightness of the turn sending it fishtailing momentarily before the driver regained control. It accelerated down the street then hopped the curb with a loud crunch of the bumper after missing the driveway turn-in and finally skidded to a crooked stop part-way on the grass in front of an apartment building. A dark-haired man leapt out of it, the smell of freshly burned rubber from the tire tracks in his wake meeting his nostrils. Unconcerned about the well-being of his vehicle, he tore up the path to his apartment in a manner that matched his erratic driving.

Keith burst through the front door of his apartment to find Lance humming and dancing in place while he flipped pancakes at the stove. His heart instantly sank. Lance was making him his favorite breakfast. He could already smell the bananas. White as a ghost, Keith hovered at the edge of the kitchen, taking in the scene and basking in the perfection that was their lives. He held his breath, wanting to stretch the beauty of it out for as long as possible, knowing full-well he was about to smash it.

“Hey, babe. I wasn’t expecting you back so soon.” Lance smiled at him and flipped another pancake onto the stack next to his pan. Keith’s throat went dry. “Everything okay?” Lance did a double take after noticing his demeanor.

No, everything was not okay. The lump in Keith’s throat grew.

“Lance, I- I fucked up…” Keith managed to croak out. “I fucked up real bad.”

“Oh no… Did you get fired again?” Lance asked, more with sympathy than disappointment and that just stung all the more.

“What? No. God-” Keith covered his eyes, remembering he was probably about to get axed from his job too.

“Well, what’s going on?” Lance put down the spatula, wiped his hands on a towel, then came to comfort his boyfriend. 

Keith’s hands were gently pulled down from his face and he looked at Lance terrified as his fingers receded.

“I kissed Shiro.” He came right out and said it.

“What?” Lance lurched backwards in surprise but didn't let go of his forearms.

“Or maybe he kissed me…” Keith’s eyes darted frantically trying to figure out exactly how it had gone down. “I'm not really sure, but it happened. We kissed...” He brought his fearful, apologetic eyes back to his boyfriend.

Stricken, Lance swallowed, but didn’t say anything right away.

“Ah- When?” He finally asked in a much dampened voice.

“Just now. At the gym. I ran out of there as soon as it happened and, Lance, I swear, it’s not going to happen again. _I swear!_ ” Keith desperately clutched Lance’s wrists, fully expecting him to pull away at any moment.

Lance’s gaze drifted around the room as he tried to piece his thoughts together.

“How much, um- I mean… Was there tongue or...?”

“For like two seconds…” Keith cringed at his honesty.

Lance nodded thoughtfully. He was clearly hurt but holding it together better than Keith had expected. 

“Okay… Okay, I'm glad you told me.” Lance’s injured but genuine eyes landed on him. He seemed to hesitate. “Um, I don’t really know how to ask this, but… Was this the first time?”

“What? Yeah…” Keith blinked at him.

“Huh…” 

Confusingly, Lance looked… relieved? Keith even cocked his head when a half-smile twitched on his lips.

“Honestly, I'm kind of surprised it didn’t happen sooner.” 

Something in Keith’s chest hurt hearing that.

“What?” It was against the rules. It had _always_ been against the rules! How could Lance think he would- “Don't you trust me?”

“Of course I do.” Lance tilted his head with sincerity. “But I also see how he looks at you, and you guys are alone a lot, and I dunno... Sometimes I worry.” He waxed insecure.

“Lance, I'd have told you if-”

“I know you would have.” Lance smiled and looked almost pleased. Pleased and reassured. He thumbed Keith’s cheek and turned back to his pancakes. 

Keith blinked, somewhat stunned. Was that it?

“Wait, you're not …mad?” Keith scrutinized his boyfriend, certain he must be misreading something. 

“Well, I'm not happy about it…” Lance tossed him a sharp side-eye. “But if the first thing you did was run home to tell me... Well, I’d say you handled it pretty well.” He smiled kindly. “And like you said, it's not going to happen again, right?” He added firmly.

“It _definitely_ won't,” Keith reiterated.

“Okay, then.” Lance returned to his normal cheery self so quickly that Keith found it a little jarring. “Anyways, there’s something else I wanted to talk to you about…” Lance went on. “It’s your birthday this week…”

“Oh, right...” Keith had almost forgotten.

“And I just want you to know that I’m _not_ planning on proposing to you for it”

“...because I kissed Shiro?” Keith looked at him, forlorn.

“What? Babe, no…” Lance laughed and took him into his arms, planting a soothing kiss in his dark hair. “I just think we should celebrate those two things separately, and I need a little more time to get organized. So just don’t be expecting it, okay?”

“Okay…” Keith squeezed him tight, still shaken from what he’d done. He reluctantly let go so Lance could get back to cooking then latched onto him from behind.

“You’re seriously the best. I love you so much…” Keith pressed his cheek against Lance’s shoulder blade and felt his understanding boyfriend's rib cage rattle with a chuckle. 

“By the way, next weekend, Hunk wants us to go help him with a photoshoot or something.” Lance slyly slipped in. “I told him we would, is that okay? It’s a bit of a drive and we’d have to dress up for it…”

“Yeah, whatever,” Keith agreed and didn’t let go of Lance, whose heart was swelling. He loved it when Keith got clingy. “Hey, when did you want to get married anyways?” Keith asked.

“Well, I have to propose first...” Lance struggled to mask his scheming grin.

“You’d better do it soon. I’m getting impatient.” Keith prodded him in the side then swayed their bodies side-to-side in a whimsical hug.

Lance’s grin burst forth, unable to contain his excitement a moment longer. It was going to be soon, alright. And Keith wasn’t going to see it coming at all.

“Hey, out of curiosity…” Lance fed Keith a slice of banana over his shoulder. “How did you end up kissing Shiro anyways? Did he come onto you or...”

“Oh god, it was so stupid,” Keith said with a mouthful of banana. “Our faces just kinda bumped together and then...”

“Bumped together?” Lance chuckled, scraping bits of stuck batter off the pan. “I can only imagine what exercises you were doing for that to happen.” He laughed and generously poured fresh batter into the skillet.

“It was after we'd worked out,” Keith explained, still wrapped around Lance. “We were jerking each other off in the locker room and our faces just kind of-”

“Wait, WHAT??” Lances hand strayed, spilling a trail of batter over the edge of the pan and onto the side of the stove. He spun around to gawk at Keith.

“Uh…” Keith stepped back confused by the outburst and not sure why Lance was staring at him like he’d kicked a puppy or something.

“You were WHAT?”

“W-We were jerking each other- Hands only, right? You- You said that was okay…” Keith’s voice shook, an inkling of what the problem might be slowly creeping over him.

Lance continued to gape at him, incredulous.

“WHEN I’M THERE, KEITH!”

Keith’s blood ran cold in his veins. He swallowed hard before emitting a muted, “Oh…”

“Oh? OH?” Lance gaped at him, growing more furious by the second. “You'd better have more to say for yourself than _‘Oh’_!”

“I, uh-” Keith wet his lips and nervously touched the back of his head. “I might have misunderstood that part...”

“You misunder-” Lance trailed into an indignant huff and tore his eyes away from the other man in the kitchen. He ran a distressed hand through his hair then set his hands on either edge of the stove, hunching over it in disbelief.

“How many times?” 

“Lance, your pancakes are burning…” Keith pointed out in a small voice.

“Fuck the pancakes, Keith! How many times did you _'misunderstand'?!_ ” Lance’s angry eyes whipped back to him.

“Just- Just a few times.” Keith tried to soften the blow, but _seven. Seven times._ Eight including the club.

Lance’s eyes went wide with shock as if Keith had told him outright. Hurt quickly overtook the surprise on his features. He turned back to the stove and hung his head.

“You’ve never been a very good liar, Keith…” His voice was hollow, barely more than a whisper, as he stared at the smoke that was starting to come up from under the burning batter.

“Lance, hey…” Keith tried to put a hand on his shoulder but Lance shrugged away from him. Seething, he snatched up the spatula, scooped up the smoldering pancake, and slapped the uncooked half of it onto the pan. The underside of it was burned black. 

Keith watched Lance stare at it a long moment, not really knowing what to say. 

“You’re right about one thing...” In one swift movement, Lance switched off the stove then loudly dumped the pan and the burned pancake in the sink. “You did fuck up.” With a harsh stare, he pushed past Keith on his way out of the kitchen.

“Lance, come on, it was a misunderstanding…”

Keith tried to explain, but the expression Lance shot him made it clear that he wasn’t having it. He snatched his keys off the counter and was out the door before it could be said again. It slammed shut behind him, leaving Keith alone and slumped against the kitchen wall, wondering how the hell they’d gotten their wires crossed on that one.

 

 

Keith cleaned up the kitchen first then guiltily nibbled at the edge of one of the pancakes. On the scale of misunderstandings they’d had, it was a pretty egregious one, especially since he’d thought they’d talked about it. With a heavy sigh, he slid a few pancakes onto a plate - no sense in them going to waste - and covered them with generous helpings of bananas and syrup. 

He sat in silence at the kitchen table fiddling with his phone and mindlessly chewing bites of his breakfast, waiting... But an hour later, Lance still hadn’t come home. Keith sent him a couple messages saying that the pancakes were good and that they should probably talk about it, but Lance had left him on read. Keith figured he just needed some time to get over the initial shock of it. The more worrying thing was he was supposed to go back to the gym to help with the kids’ class later that afternoon and he really wasn't looking forward to facing Shiro. 

A visual of the state he'd left his trainer in - gasping and coming on the locker room bench - flashed in his mind and Keith cringed. He didn't think Shiro would be mad per se, but still, it was going to be pretty awkward.

Looking hopefully out the window for what must have been the dozenth time to see if Lance was on his way back, Keith realized he was going to be late if he waited any longer, especially since Lance had taken the car. Reluctantly, he left to catch the bus to the gym.

 

 

“Keith…” Shiro looked surprised but glad to see him. “I didn't think you'd be back.”

“Yeah, well, I do need this job if it’s, um… still available.” Keith stopped a safe distance from Shiro, putting much more space between them than usual, and hugged his elbows, already suffocating in the awkwardness. 

“Of course.” Shiro was as kind as ever.

A rather heavy silence followed and Keith was uncomfortably aware that his trainer’s eyes were on him.

“So about what happened-” Shiro started carefully.

“I told Lance.” Keith cut him off.

Shiro swallowed. “Is everything… okay?”

“He's not happy, but I think he'll get over it. But listen, it turns out that hands only isn’t-” The door jingled and the first of the kids arrived. “Ah- shoot. Maybe we can talk about this later.” 

Shiro nodded and they started getting out equipment for the class in silence. Keith went about setting up some cones for the kids to run drills around, pretending not to notice that Shiro kept glancing at him and desperately trying not to think about how awkward he felt.

Shortly before class started, a text arrived on Shiro’s phone. His eyes went wide as he read it.

“Uh, Keith…” He came up behind the smaller man and gingerly tapped him on the shoulder. “Are you sure everything’s okay with Lance?” He showed him his phone.

\--Lance: FUCK YOU HOMEWRECKER

“Yikes...” Keith’s insides plummeted. He looked to Shiro, face full of worry.

“Maybe you should go talk to him…”

“Yeah… I think maybe I should…”

“Don’t worry, I can handle the kids today.” Shiro gestured for him to go and Keith didn’t waste any time in scrambling his belongings together. Shiro grabbed his arm as he was on his way out and mouthed a hurried _‘I’m sorry’_.

Flustered, Keith waved him off. He didn’t have time to deal with Shiro right that second.

“Alright kids, Coach Keith has something he has to go take care of, so it’s just me today!” Shiro announced to the class in his best, unaffected coaching voice. But his concerned eyes chased after his protege as he hurried out the door amid a chorus of disappointed groans from the kids.

 

 

\--Keith: Homewrecker, really?

Keith texted with fury the second he was out the door.

\--Keith: That's so mature, Lance. Just SO mature!  
\--Keith: I thought we were going to talk about this like adults!

\--Lance: What the hell, are you with him right now??

\--Keith: I was scheduled to work!

\--Lance: Unbelievable…  
\--Lance: Of course you ran straight back to him...

\--Keith: I’m trying to be responsible and hold down a job!

\--Lance: That’s just great, Keith. You go be with Shiro.  
\--Lance: Don’t let me stand in your way.

\--Keith: It’s for WORK, Lance!  
\--Keith: what, you want me to just never see him again?

\--Lance: Yes, actually. That is what I want.

\--Keith: you're being ridiculous

Lance's texting pattern was different. No emojis. Perfect grammar. Punctuation? It was unnerving. He was mad, alright.

A new chat bubble popped up on Keith’s screen.

\--Shiro: Keith… I can take the blame for the kiss.  
\--Shiro: It’s my fault as the third party for not respecting boundaries.

\--Keith: yeah, that’s not what he’s mad about

\--Shiro: oh?

\--Keith: turns out hands only wasn’t okay

\--Shiro: ???

\--Keith: he meant that for only when we’re having threesomes…

\--Shiro: Oh that’s bad, Keith… That’s REAL BAD.

\--Keith: YOU THINK I DON’T KNOW THAT??

Keith thought his phone was going to snap in two from how hard he was gripping it. He saw Shiro typing again and immediately got even more frustrated.

\--Keith: Dealing with Lance rn. I don’t have time to talk you.

He flipped back to the chat with Lance, which had been accumulating notifications.

\--Lance: I knew it. I just KNEW something was going on with you two.  
\--Lance: And you’re already back there with him...  
\--Lance: Did you suck his dick this time too?  
\--Lance: Fuck in the showers?  
\--Lance: Profess your undying love for each other in the squat rack?

\--Keith: JFC… NO

\--Lance: And what about all the other times? Just how many times have you sucked his dick without me knowing?

\--Keith: Lance STOP

\--Lance: You'd do it though, wouldn't you…

\--Keith: not if it makes you this much of a brat I wouldn’t!

\--Lance: Oh, I'm a brat, am I?  
\--Lance: FOR NOT WANTING MY BOYFRIEND TO FUCK AROUND WITH OTHER GUYS??

\--Keith: IT WAS A MISUNDERSTANDING

\--Lance: Wow.  
\--Lance: How convenient for you.

\--Keith: YOU’RE BEING AN ASS

\--Lance: Thought I was a brat.

\--Keith: LANCE

\--Lance: At least I’m not a LIAR KEITH.  
\--Lance: OR A CHEATER.

Keith furiously typed “I AM NOT A CHEAT-” then stopped.

_Shit…_

_...am I?_

He may have thought he’d been following the rules, but from Lance’s perspective… A chill started to pass through him but he quickly shook it off. It had been a miscommunication, that’s all. A pretty bad one, but it wasn’t his fault.

\--Keith: Look, can we talk about this at home? I’m on my way now.

\--Lance: So nice of you to give up your precious time with Shiro for me. I’m just your BOYFRIEND after all.

Frustrated though he was, Keith didn’t respond to the dig. It wasn’t going to help anything.

\--Keith: okay. i’ll see you at home.

 

 

Keith waited all afternoon and evening, but Lance didn’t come home. Keith even called in sick for his shift at the diner so he could keep waiting and, miraculously, didn’t get fired on the spot. The irony that he was more likely to keep his job if he didn’t show up to it was not lost on him.

The sun had gone down and it was getting late. Annoyed because he could have gone to work after all, Keith sat hunched over the table with one leg bouncing anxiously beneath it and his face propped up and smushed against his hand. A nervous wreck, he didn’t take his eyes off the door, like if he stared at it long enough, Lance might magically come through it. Red, too, was sitting by the entryway hopefully wagging her tail, waiting for Lance. 

\--Keith: are you coming back tonight?

\--Lance: What do you think?

Keith snapped a quick picture of Red and sent it to him.

\--Keith: Red misses you…

\--Lance: Don’t drag her into this.

Keith threw his phone down frustrated. Lance wasn’t even trying.

 

 

The picture of his dog waiting for him by the door brought fresh tears to Lance’s eyes. He chucked his phone aside, unable to stomach the hurt any longer.

“I don’t get it, Hunk… How could he do this? ” Lance lamented on his best friend’s couch that had been made into a makeshift bed after Lance had shown up and sheepishly announced that he needed a place to stay for the night. “I was going to propose... NEXT WEEKEND!” He cried in the very same spot where they’d planned said proposal just a few weeks prior.

Hunk stood before him, rather flummoxed and scratching his head, still trying to grasp the situation.

“Alright, let me get this straight. You guys have been having sex... with Shiro.” He blushed mildly as he said it.

“Yes.”

“And when you were all, uh... together or whatever you call it…” Hunk paled and rather nervously twiddled his hands in some gesture that was supposed to represent that. “In that situation, you were okay with him and Keith, uh… _doing stuff…_ ” He mashed his fingers together, cheeks reddening again.

“Yes.”

“But not when they’re on their own.” He pulled his hands apart.

“Yes! EXACTLY!” Lance cried emphatically. “And somehow he thought it was okay for them to- Am I crazy? Is it not obvious how _not okay_ that is?” Lance pulled at his hair, getting more worked up by the minute. In what universe could Keith have assumed that him and Shiro could go around giving each other handjobs whenever they felt like it? They were not on the same page about their relationship if he’d somehow come to that conclusion. Not on the same page _at all._

At a total loss, Lance looked to his friend, who was still trying to figure out the logistics of it on his fingers.

“Hunk…”

“Huh? Oh, no, it makes sense to me, man. Though I dunno how much I can really relate to this whole… situation.” His eyes went wide as he considered at his hands again. He shook it off with an overwhelmed shudder and took a seat on the couch next to Lance, looking carefully at his friend. “But you know Keith’s always been a little... Well, sometimes you really have to spell things out for him.” 

“He should have known better, Hunk… And with _Shiro_ of all people…” Lance’s shoulders slumped again. The one guy he could never compete with. The guy that was conveniently always around...

“Yeah, Shiro… What’s his take on all this?” Hunk ask innocently enough.

“I don’t fucking know. I’m never talking to him again!” Lance declared and furiously crossed his arms. “I’m not sure I’m ever speaking to _either_ of them again! They can fucking have each other!”

A mixture of concern and sympathy passed over Hunk’s face.

“Boy, this is a tough one, Lance.” Hunk rubbed his head thoughtfully. “What are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know...” Lance chewed his lip and wished he was being dramatic.

“Well, you should probably talk to Keith soon, especially if you still plan on going to the cliff on Saturday. Ya know, for a ‘photoshoot’.” He air quoted.

The cliff… Lance’s horrified, tear-filled eyes flashed to him. It was the first time he realized that his proposal might be in danger. With a woeful moan, he slumped forward with his face in his hands. 

“Aw, come on, man. Don’t cry.” Hunk put an arm around his friend’s shaking shoulders. “We can always arrange another weekend if this one doesn’t work out.”

Lance appreciated that his friend was trying to help, really, he did, but Hunk just didn’t get it. His heart had been so set on it happening _that_ weekend. He’d been writing the date in the margins next to his proposal notes like the chump that he was, all while Keith and Shiro had been...

“I know it looks bad, but I think you guys probably just need to talk it out.” Hunk tried to be the voice of reason. “And hey, maybe it’s not as bad as-” He nixed the optimism after seeing his friend’s forlorn expression. “Okay, this is gonna sound crazy.” He held up his hands for Lance to just hear him out. “But you know how Keith is... If he really did misunderstand and didn’t know that he wasn’t supposed to be, uh… _alone with Shiro._ ” Hunk chose his words gently. “Which, yeah, is a _bad thing_ to be confused about, but, let’s be real, it’s not totally farfetched for him. Anyway, my point is... I bet he feels pretty bad about it.” 

Lance’s face softened as the edge came off his indignation. It was annoying to admit it, but Hunk was probably right.

“Maybe give him a chance to apologize first,” Hunk suggested gently.

“I still think he should have known...” Lance sniffed and wiped his nose. “But yeah… we should probably talk.” 

Satisfied with the shift in his friend’s emotional state, Hunk slapped him on the back before climbing off the couch. “Sleep on it, man. You’ll feel better in the morning.” 

“Hunk…” Lance called after him as his friend started to leave. “If I end up needing a place to crash for a few days while we figure this out…” He brought his eyes up to his friend.

“Oh yeah, sure buddy. We always have room for you here.”

With that, Hunk flipped off the lights and left Lance alone with his thoughts.

 

 

 

Sunday.

Puffy eyed and weary, Lance went home the next morning. He hadn’t slept well and was in a foul mood but had convinced himself to at least see what Keith had to say. 

Keith, still in his pajamas, leapt up with surprise when Lance appeared in their living room.

“You’re back…” He breathed.

“Yeah.”

“Where’d you stay?”

“Hunk’s.” Lance kept his replies short and marched right past Keith to the couch. He dropped onto it, keeping his arms crossed and his face sour.

“Did you want to talk...?” Keith asked carefully, aware of Lance’s less-than-eager body language.

Lance shrugged unenthusiastically. “Can’t imagine why else I’d be here.”

Keith took a steady breath. Lance was not setting a good precedent.

“I thought maybe we could do table time…” Keith suggested, gesturing at their rickety folding table he’d practically fallen asleep at the night before.

Lance eyed him like he had to be joking. Table time implied there would be forgiveness. He scoffed at the presumption and didn’t get up.

“Maybe now isn’t such a good time if you’re just gonna give me attitude,” Keith huffed, remembering how petty Lance got when he was upset.

“No, no… I do want to talk.” With a reluctant sigh, Lance changed his demeanor and tried to shelve his spitefulness. “But you should also know that I am _incredibly_ pissed right now.”

“Hadn’t picked up on that…” Keith snarked.

Lance bit his lip to prevent himself from snidely remarking that he was just being clear so they didn’t have another _misunderstanding_ on their hands.

“Alright…” With minor irritation, Keith dragged a chair across the room and parked his ass down on it in front of him. “Let me start by saying I’m sorry.” He said it as genuinely as he could, which wasn’t very. He wasn’t great at faking emotions and didn’t particularly think he had anything to apologize for - It had just been an unfortunate miscommunication about the rules. If wasn’t like he’d have done it if he’d known... - But he did feel bad that Lance had gotten hurt. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” That part at least had sounded heartfelt, but Lance did not look very impressed.

“I don’t know why I’m surprised. It was only a matter of time,” he scoffed at the apology.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Keith snapped back, instantly on the defensive.

“You’ve wanted to be with him for years. Admit it already.”

“Stop, okay? I’m with you.” Keith warned him not to go down that road. They’d had that argument before.

“I’m so sick of this.” Lance leaned forward and put his face in his hands. “I’m tired of feeling like somebody’s placeholder.”

“You’re not!” Keith implored him to believe him. 

“Really? The only reason we slept with him in the first place was because _you_ wanted to!” Lance cried.

“Lance, come on! You were into him too.”

“Not anymore I’m not,” he snorted.

Keith’s phone vibrated on the table with rather inopportune timing.

“Is that him texting you?” Lance was not amused.

“I don’t know.” Keith crossed his arms firmly and wasn’t about to check.

“It’s not like anyone else texts you,” Lance muttered.

“If it _is_ him, he’s probably wondering if you’re okay. If _we_ are okay.” Keith gestured between them.

Lance let out a crass snort.

“So kind of him to be concerned about my well-being when he’s been _fucking_ my boyfriend behind my back.”

“We _didn’t_ fuck,” Keith hissed fiercely.

“Might as well have,” Lance spat.

“Lance, ugh…” Keith clenched his fists and reigned in his frustration, knowing Lance's imagination was probably blowing everything out of proportion. “It wasn’t like you’re thinking, okay? It was just... physical.” He ignored the doubtful look Lance cast him. “I’m sorry it happened, alright? I understand the rules now and it’s _never_ going to happen again. Can we just move on?”

“When did it start?” Lance it seemed was not ready to move on.

Keith sighed and supposed he at least owed Lance an answer to that question.

“At the club. For Hunk’s party.”

“Whoa, you guys fooled around at the club?” Lance cried with dismay. He thought that had been a pretty special night for them.

“Lance, you said we could!” Keith cried defensively. “Shiro even asked you... It was supposed to be the three of us! You _told_ me to go with him!”

“I… I don’t remember what I said that night.” Lance racked his brain but he’d been too preoccupied with things he’d rather not mention to properly commit those conversations to memory.

Keith shot him a look that said _‘seriously?’_

“Whatever… Look, I don’t care about a one-off at some club that I maybe, sort-of agreed to, but at the gym, Keith?” Lance looked at him hurt. “You go there all the damn time…”

“I thought we were following the rules... Lance, you know I would never-”

“I don’t know anything anymore.” Lance cut him off with a wave of his hand, a mix of angry, disappointed, and just plain sad. 

Keith hated seeing him like that.

“All I can tell you is that I didn’t think we were doing anything wrong,” he pleaded for Lance to understand.

“ _How?_ How could you think that?”

“Because you said-”

“What, Keith? What did I say? Please enlighten me!”

“You said hands only was okay!”

“THAT DOESN’T APPLY WHEN I’M NOT THERE!”

“I DIDN’T KNOW THAT!” 

Screaming at the top of their lungs, they were back at the same impasse. Lance’s head rolled back against the couch, exhausted. Why… Why did their worst fights always revolve around Shiro? Why was that guy such an obstacle in their relationship?

“You’re making this a bigger deal than it needs to be.” Frustrated and a little embarrassed, Keith let the thought slip out without thinking too much about it.

“Oh, am I?” Lance’s anger came roaring back with a vengeance. “My boyfriend’s been fucking around behind my back. Yeah, you’re right. Totally not a big deal. What the hell was I thinking?” He fired off a vicious look. “And on top of that, you’ve been _kissing_ him, which you KNEW wasn’t okay!”

Keith clenched his jaw and fought to keep his cool. “We didn’t kiss except for that one time - which I told you about immediately. We kept it to hands only, LIKE WE THOUGHT WE WERE SUPPOSED TO.”

“This isn’t about finding loopholes, Keith! You know I’m barely okay with him touching you when I’m there, never mind when it's just the two of you. Fuck! It should _never_ be just the two of you!” Lance got up and threw his arms in the air. “I'm your boyfriend!” He whipped around to face him again. “I’m your boyfriend and you- you cheated, Keith! You fucking cheated on me!”

“What?!” Keith was caught off guard by the accusation and leapt to his feet too. “I did not!”

“Yeah, you did…” The wind taken out of his sails after the outburst, Lance slumped onto the couch again. “Y-You cheated…” He said it more to himself than to Keith as he blinked back tears.

“I didn’t!" Keith was frozen, suddenly second-guessing himself. "...did I?”

He hadn’t really thought about it like that…

“I- I thought that-”

They were just following the rules… 

“You even said-”

What they’d _thought_ were the rules. If he’d known...

“Lance, I would never-”

But he’d done it. He’d done something Lance wasn't okay with.

Keith’s mouth flapped uselessly while tears welled in his eyes. It hit him for the first time what he’d done.

He had. He’d cheated on Lance.

“Lance, I- I didn't mean to...” His voice broke and, even as he said it, it sounded like the worst excuse. “Shit... Lance, I- I’m sorry...”

In his shocked state, Keith couldn’t say much more and just stood in front of him like a deer in the headlights.

“You know what? I don’t want to hear it.” Lance got off the couch and started for his keys.

“Lance, come on... I didn’t realize what we were doing! I didn’t think it would-”

“That! That, right there, is the fucking problem!” Lance spun around and cut him off. “You _don’t_ think! If you’d stopped for even a second to consider how I would feel about it…” His ferocity dropped off suddenly and he lost his steam completely while looking Keith up and down with sad eyes. “It’s like I don’t factor into your decisions at all.”

“Lance, that’s not true!” Keith’s words were mangled, his voice strained as he fought not to cry. His panicked eyes followed Lance as he retrieved his backpack from the bedroom then moved with him as he headed towards the door. “Wait, where are you going?” He cried like a wounded animal.

“Out.”

“Well, when are you coming back?”

“I don’t know.”

The sound of the door slamming shut and the chill that passed through him when it did was something Keith wouldn't soon forget. It was the first time he realized how dire the situation might be.

 

 

Keith was miserable trying to fall asleep that night. He was familiar with the concept of ‘crying yourself to sleep’ but it had been a lot more crying and a lot less sleeping on his end. He felt terrible that he’d somehow maybe, possibly, accidentally cheated on Lance. Wearily, he stepped through the logic that had led him to that point over and over again and kept coming to the conclusion that he was right! That it had just been a miscommunication! But another nagging part of his brain told him that Lance was right too. That if he’d stopped to think about it...

Looking for any escape from the spiraling thoughts that laid the blame squarely on his shoulders, he turned to his phone.

\--Keith: Lance thinks I cheated…

\--Shiro: I can see how he would think that.

\--Keith: do you think I cheated?

\--Shiro: I think you should worry more about what Lance thinks than what I think.

Keith cursed miserably under his breath and slammed his phone to the mattress. Blinking through a fresh stream of tears, he stared at the ceiling, the late hour forcing him to be brutally honest with himself. On some level, he’d known that it probably wasn’t okay how close he and Shiro were getting, but he intentionally hadn’t thought about it too hard. And now that he was finally forced to… Of course it wasn't okay!

With a despair-filled groan at the glaringly obvious, Keith shifted onto his side.

Loopholes… What Lance had said about loopholes had cut him to the quick. It was exactly what they’d been doing. All those nose kisses and time spent sucking each other’s necks, playfully finding ways to bend and get around the rules... Ignoring their nakedness, being inexcusably intimate, all while convincing themselves it was somehow okay? That it was allowed because they were carefully avoiding each other’s mouths? Keith violently turned over and smothered another sob into his pillow. Even if technically they hadn't broken any rules, they’d more then denigrated the spirit of them. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have hurt Lance like that? Why didn’t he stop to think about things before acting? _Why was he like this?_

His vision swimming, he picked up his phone again.

\--Keith: Oh Lance I'm so sorry… You’re right. You’re right about everything. I’m so sorry… I’m so sorrry.... i’M sos sprrryyy….//.,..../

But for whatever reason, Keith couldn't bring himself to press send. He didn't deserve Lance. He didn’t deserve anybody.

 

 

 

Monday.

\--Keith: Just so you know, I’m going to the gym today.  
\--Keith: To workout. Nothing more.  
\--Keith: I haven’t talked to Shiro since - He searched for a the least inflammatory way to phrase it - the other day and I want to clear the air with him. Make sure he knows that we can’t do anything ever again.

\--Lance: When have I ever stopped you from going to see Shiro?

\--Keith: Look, I just wanted you to know.  
\--Keith: I’m trying my best here.

\--Lance: Bit late for that now.

Keith sagged helplessly. Lance was completely shutting him out.

 

 

Dejected and looking a bedraggled, crestfallen mess, Keith stumbled into the gym.

“Whoa, Keith… Are you okay?”

“Shiro…” Keith nearly broke down in tears on the spot. His trainer was at his side in an instant, hand hovering behind his back, wary of physical contact.

“Uh oh... Is it Lance?” He asked gently.

Keith swallowed a sob and nodded.

“He won’t talk to me. All I get from him is snark. He hasn’t even been home since…”

Shiro’s face was afflicted with guilt and concern. “Well, this happened once before, right? You guys are gonna figure it out. You just gotta give him some time.” He tried to be optimistic.

“I don’t know, Shiro. This feels a lot worse than last time…” Keith’s voice strained.

“I seem to recall it feeling pretty hopeless back then too…”

“Yeah, but...”

“Would it help if I talked to him?” Shiro offered.

“ _Definitely not!_ ” The eruption trailed into another chest-rattling sob. “Please just stay out of this!” Keith begged him then lost his composure entirely.

“Aw, Keith…” Overcome with sympathy, Shiro moved to hug him.

“ _Don’t._ ” Keith pushed a hand into his chest to stop him. No matter how much he needed a hug in that moment, just for the comfort alone, it could not come from Shiro.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Keith continued, turning deathly serious and remembering the other reason he’d come. “You and me? It’s done, okay? It should never have started in the first place. So we don’t hug, we don’t touch unnecessarily, we don’t even take our shirts off around each other, and we _definitely_ don’t go in there together...” He cast a decisive glance at the locker room door. “When you spot me, you spot the bar, not my body. From here on out, we have a strictly professional relationship, and if you can’t handle that, then I don’t come here anymore. Got it?” Keith’s nostrils flared to punctuate how serious he was.

“Absolutely.” Shiro’s voice was soft with sincerity, though he looked a touch disappointed. “I’m sorry, Keith. I feel pretty responsible for this.”

“Yeah, I don’t think you’re blameless, but it’s my relationship... I’m the one that fucked that up.” Keith cleared his throat. “Anyways, let’s just workout.”

It was the least enjoyable training session they’d ever had.

 

 

To Keith’s surprise, Lance was in the living room when he got home, still in his work clothes just sitting on the couch playing with Red. 

“Hey!” Keith was surprised and delighted to see him.

“I just came back for a change of clothes. I thought you’d still be at the gym.” Lance immediately vacated the couch and retreated to the bedroom with his backpack. Let down, Keith hovered in the doorway while Lance dug through the dresser. He held Red, who was eagerly trying to follow after Lance, back by the collar because technically she wasn’t allowed in the bedroom. 

Lance tried to ignore the eyes that were watching him while he packed his bag.

“How’s Shiro?” He jabbed.

“I made things clear.” Keith reported factually. “You know, he didn’t know what you meant by hands only either...”

“I bet he didn’t,” Lance snorted. “Then again, why would he question it if your hand was already on his dick?”

Keith labored through an annoyed breath and had half a mind to choke Lance, but his irritation faded to dismay when he saw him stuffing at least a week’s worth of shirts into his backpack. 

“Lance, when are you gonna come home?”

“When I can stand to look at you again!” He spat with a vitriol that Keith wasn’t totally prepared for.

“I said I’m sorry, alright? I don’t know what else you want from me!” The man across the room yanked open another drawer and pointedly ignored him. “You know you can always sleep on the couch, right?” A handful of socks were shoved into the backpack. “Or _I_ could sleep on the couch…?” Lance went for the underwear drawer next. “Hey, will you just talk to me?” In desperation, Keith grabbed Lance by the arm.

“Keith!” Lance jerked free of his grasp. “I have _nothing_ to say to you right now. Nothing good anyways.”

After fixing him with a hard stare, Lance went back to packing. He stuffed his backpack until it was bulging then forcefully zipped it up. Keith reluctantly stepped out of his way as he charged out of the bedroom and through the living room. Red bounced along at his side, jumping and trying to get his attention.

“Just stick around for a bit.” Keith was determined to not let Lance walk out that door. “Take Red for a walk or something. She shouldn’t have to suffer in all this.”

Lance’s steadfast commitment to his anger faltered. He did miss Red. 

Slowly, he set his bag down. He crouched and held his arms out for her.

“Come here, girl!” 

She yelped and jumped up, putting her paws on his shoulders, wagging her tail so hard her whole backside wiggled. Lance laughed as she licked his face. 

Keith managed a small smile. It was a relief to see Lance happy again. 

After the initial excitement passed, Red settled down enough to roll over so Lance could scratch her belly. Her tail thudded loudly against the carpet at the attention from her favorite person. Keith crept closer, moving slowly in case he scared Lance off. He cautiously knelt next to them then joined Lance in stroking Red’s tummy.

“She’s a good girl, huh?” Keith said, smiling at their chubby pup.

“Yeah, she is… She is, she is, she issssss,” Lance cooed, hitting the spot that made her back leg twitch.

“Lance… I’m really sorry. I feel terrible about what I did.” Keith didn’t have to feign sincerity this time.

“I know you do…” Lance sighed softly. “I wish that was enough.”

“I get that you’re mad, but-”

“I’m not mad, Keith…” Lance’s honest, blue eyes lifted to him and there wasn’t a trace of anger on his face. “I’m crushed.”

The words nearly yanked Keith’s heart out of his chest. “I’d take it back if I could. Believe me, I wish I’d never-” He slid his hand through Red’s fur and gently brushed a finger against one of Lance’s. 

Lance’s eyes remained pained, but he didn’t pull away from Keith’s touch.

“Is that the kind of relationship you want? Where we fuck around on each other?”

“It’s the only kind of relationship I had before you. Maybe that’s why it didn’t seem like such a big deal...”

“It’s not what I want, Keith,” Lance said firmly.

“I know. It was a mistake.” It was a risk, but Keith took it. He reached over Lance’s hand and clasped his fingers firmly around it, and nearly cried when by some miracle, Lance squeezed back. For a precious, breathless moment, they smiled at each other.

Red looked up at them a moment later, wondering where her belly rubs had gone. They chuckled and Keith quickly put his other hand to work to placate her, not letting go of Lance’s.

“You’re really sweaty…” Lance remarked, looking - really looking - at Keith for the first time since they’d fought.

“Yeah, I don’t shower at the gym anymore.” Keith managed to make a wry joke out of it, one that even got an amused huff out of Lance.

The glimpse of normalcy, however brief, was a godsend for Keith. It sent his heart soaring, but Lance’s smile faded a moment later and Keith’s hope with it. Lance’s hand drifted from his fingers.

“I should probably go.” Lance got to his feet.

“Dammit, Lance.” Keith hit his fist against the floor with frustration. “What can I do? What do you need me to say? I’m really trying here,” he whined desperately. “It’s like... It’s like you won’t let me fix it. And, I dunno, Lance… Is it? Is it fixable?” He voiced the question he’d been too scared to even think.

Lance swallowed hard but conveyed no other emotion. “I can't have this conversation right now,” he said as he shouldered his backpack. “But Keith…” He stopped a few paces from the door. “Are you in love with him?”

“No.” Keith didn’t hesitate. “I’m in love with _you_.” But Lance didn’t turn around to see the tears and sincerity building in his eyes. 

“I really wish I believed you…”

And with that whisper, Lance left. 

 

_Please  - r e a **[k]** \- u -  Responsibly_

 

 

 

Wednesday.

Keith didn’t do anything for his birthday. It had fallen mid-week, which was enough of an excuse to not celebrate. Shiro offered to throw something together for him but Keith had declined. It didn’t feel appropriate and he really wasn’t feeling it anyway. Instead, he holed up in his apartment and kept glancing at the door, thinking that, of all days, maybe that would be the one when Lance came home.

But he didn’t. 

Not even a text or a call, Keith didn’t hear from him the entire day and was too discouraged after the way their last conversation had ended to reach out to him.

His bed was empty and lonely that night and his pillow damp yet again with tears. It had only been a few days but it felt like an eternity. He touched the unoccupied space next to him where Lance should have been, his body and heart aching for the man that usually slept at his side. To have his arms around him, to feel his warmth, to sleep with their legs tangled together, getting so overheated that they had to kick the sheets off... To hear his soft, steady breath next to his ear, to feel his heart beating beneath his palm... 

The agony of his absence and how hopeless everything felt sent Keith curling into a ball.

The last time they’d had a fight like this, at least Lance had slept on the couch. Keith tried to remember how they’d extricated themselves from that low point. It had seemed so impossible, but after giving each other space, somehow things had turned a corner. And that was what Keith was trying to do... Give Lance space, even if it killed him on a nightly basis. 

Just before the clock ticked over to midnight, Keith’s phone flashed with a notification. He snatched it up and sat up fast after seeing Lance’s name on the screen.

\--Lance: Hey...  
\--Lance: Happy birthday.  
\--Lance: I’d feel like the biggest jerk on the planet if I didn’t at least tell you that today.

Keith's heart just about burst.

\--Keith: Lance...  
\--Keith: Thank you.

\--Lance: I really do love you, Keith. So much it hurts.  
\--Lance: This is so hard… I wish things were different, ya know?

\--Keith: I know. I love you too. I’m so sorry for all of this…  
\--Keith: come home soon, okay?  
\--Keith: I’ll be here when you do  
\--Keith: *pizza emoji*

Lance didn’t send anything back after that, but it was enough to give Keith hope. Hope that they were going to figure this out. That they were going to get through it. He fell asleep cradling the device and the birthday wish to his chest. It was the closest thing he had to Lance for the time being.

 

 

 

Thursday.

Even though he was supposed to be giving Lance space, Keith couldn’t resist sending him a quick thank you on his way to the diner.

\--Keith: thanks for texting me last night  
\--Keith: it really meant a lot to me

\--Lance: I'm glad  
\--Lance: :)

Keith was positively giddy after seeing that emoji. He was lighter on his feet than ever when he clocked in for his shift and resolved to give Lance all the space he needed. If their exchange around the birthday text was any indication, it was working. 

On the other end of the line though, Lance’s smile faded to an uncertain frown. He slumped forward at his work desk, tired. Just... so tired.

 

 

 

 

Saturday.

Lance woke up on Hunk’s couch with his back aching and a kink in his neck for the seventh-straight day in a row, and for the _seventh-straight day in a row_ , he chased visions of Shiro and Keith out of his head. It had been a miserable, exhausting week, the worst of his life. He’d spent the better part of it trapped up in his own head going in endless circles and not liking where his thoughts usually led him.

He shifted on the couch and the ring box he’d left sitting on the coffee table the night before came into view. It was the day he’d planned on proposing. He should’ve been leaving with Keith for a beachside bluff where they would start planning the rest of their lives together, yet there he was worrying about Shiro instead.

Shiro... He was always there, an ever-present, immovable force in Keith’s life and it was starting to feel like there wasn’t much room for anything else. The more they'd included him in their relationship the more he’d taken over it. Tired of feeling like a third wheel in his own relationship, Lance sometimes wondered if it wouldn’t be better to just remove himself from the equation. If he really was just in the way… 

With a lengthy groan, he stuffed the unkind, self-deprecating thought away because at the same time, he was just as close to calling Keith and asking him to run away to the beach with him so he could get down on one knee. He’d very nearly done just that the night before while he’d been longingly turning the ring over in his hand and imagining putting it on Keith’s finger. He could still see that future... But did he really want it if it included Shiro too? If he wasn't Keith's one-and-only?

Lance sighed heavily. He didn't know what to do. He needed to think, needed to clear his head. Laboriously, he rolled his body off the couch and swept the ring into his backpack which he then threw over his shoulder. He may not have known what he was going to do, but Lance knew exactly where he needed to be to figure it out.

He stopped by the kitchen where Hunk and Shay were enjoying breakfast first and pulled up a chair.

“I know I’ve dumped a lot on you guys already this week, but there’s one more pretty big favor I need to ask of you.” He looked solemnly between them. Hunk’s eyes went wide while he explained and Shay brought one hand to her mouth.

“Jesus, Lance… Are you sure?” Hunk asked.

“No...” Lance bit his bottom lip so it wouldn’t shake. “But just in case…”

“Yeah, of course we’ll help you if you need it,” Hunk agreed. 

“We just really hope you won’t need it,” Shay added.

“Me too...” Lance smiled at her sadly.

With that, he pulled himself to his feet and made for the door. The couple at the table exchanged worried glances as they watched him go.

 

 

That afternoon Keith stopped by Hunk and Shay’s place, hoping to find Lance. They hadn’t talked in a few days and, space or no space, Keith was getting antsy.

“Keith, hi…” Hunk answered the door, rather surprised to see him. “Oh… Oh boy, are you here for Lance?” A soft sympathy hung in his eyes.

“Yeah, um... He mentioned you guys might be doing a photoshoot or something today…” Keith said, feeling incredibly awkward and transparent, but he was getting desperate and it had given him an excuse to come looking for Lance. “I think I was supposed to help with that, so, um... I figured I’d come by in case it was still happening…”

“A photo shoot?” Hunk looked confused before it clicked. “Oh, THAT! Yeah… I think that got cancelled or postponed or something...” He smiled grimly.

“Oh...” Keith's shoulders dropped. “Well, can I at least talk to him?”

“Believe me, buddy, I’d love for you guys to talk, but he’s actually not here right now…”

“Huh?” Keith blinked. “Where is he?”

 

 

 

High up on a seaside cliff, a warm breeze tousled Lance’s hair. The subtle taste of salt and the fresh smell of ocean water carried on the air while faint cries from seagulls sounded in the distance, their silhouettes dancing against the brilliantly red-orange October sky. Finding a rare moment of peace in the chaos that had invaded his life, Lance gazed serenely into the approaching sunset.

“You remember how I always used to go on and on about finding my future Mrs. McClain and you guys would laugh and roll your eyes at me while I chased the wrong girls again and again and again?” Lance smiled fondly at the folly of his youth. “Can you imagine how pissed I’d have been back then if I’d known that my Mrs. didn’t exist at all? That it was actually a Mister?” 

“It’s you, Keith. It’s always been you.” 

His lip started to quiver, but he held it together. Hunk had told him to practice, after all.

“There was a feeling I had when I first laid eyes on you and I didn’t know what it meant back then, but I think I can finally put it into words. It’s more than just loving you or wanting to spend the rest of my life with you. You’re my star... The only light in my sky and I’ll orbit you forever.” 

He opened the black, rectangular box in his hand and looked at the red and blue titanium band cushioned inside it. This was the part where he would have gotten down on one knee.

“Keith Kogane…” Lance caught a tear that had frustratingly escaped his eye as he stared into the empty space across from him where Keith should have been, and through his watery vision, he could almost picture him there.

Choking on the words he’d been waiting to say since the first time they'd kissed on that dancefloor and shaking his head because this wasn’t how it was supposed to be, Lance voicelessly mouthed the words, _‘Will you marry me?’_ He blinked the tears free from his eyes as the ghostly, mulleted apparition across from him faded. His arm fell slack, the open ring box dangling at his side. He’d been hellbent on making his proposal happen and what a cruel twist of fate it was that he was there to make a very different decision about their future instead.

He dragged his eyes to the ocean expanse before him, watching the orange dome begin to sink below the horizon. He’d sat on that cliff for hours going back and forth and was no closer to making up his mind. Figuring out what to do was killing him. Because he loved Keith, loved him with all his heart. But it just didn’t seem like Keith felt the same way about him. And after what he’d done with Shiro…

_How could he… How could he do that to me? How could he do that to US?_

Shaking with stifled sobs, Lance snapped the ring box shut and clenched it tightly in his fist. He meant to drop it into the open backpack waiting just below his hand, to keep holding on to that last shred of hope that their relationship was still somehow salvageable, but standing there in the receding light of day, Lance made a snap decision.

With a fiercely cathartic cry filled with all his rage and indignation and heartbreak, he hurled the velvet box with all his might in the direction of the setting sun. And suddenly, time moved in slow motion. His fingers spread wide with momentary regret, reaching after it, as the ring - and the future he’d been dreaming of with Keith - sailed through the air, out over the Pacific, and eclipsed against the last dregs of daylight. And with the heart-wrenching realization that he hadn't come there to stay in his relationship, that he'd come to say goodbye to it, Lance let it go.

_I never tried to be……_  
_A hero_

His blue eyes tracked the velvet box until he lost sight of it. An object of immeasurable importance, a representation of their love and all his hopes and dreams for their future, rendered insignificant as it fell meaninglessly - a drop in the ocean - to the waters below, like it had never existed at all. 

_You took us from the stars……_  
_To zero_

Lance tore his eyes from the picturesque scenery, turning his back to it and feeling something in his heart harden as the sun set behind him.

_We had a love devout_  
_without a shred of doubt_  
_We never worried 'bout…_  
_other people_

_You broke the spell_  
_and wanted something else_  
_Well, go fuck yourself with…_  
_other people_

So numb inside his limbs felt feeble, Lance weakly scooped up the backpack at his feet. Gripping his keys in a determined fist, he trudged back to the car.

It was time to talk to Keith.

 

_Please  - r e a k **[  ]** u -  Responsibly_

 

 

It was late by the time Lance made it home. He’d fought with himself endlessly on the drive back, second-guessing and bargaining with himself, but it was too late. The ring was gone. 

_No more song no more dance……_  
_No dance floor_

He pulled up in front of their apartment and sat there like a ghost looking into the past as he gazed at the light coming through the window of their living room.

Keith was still awake. Waiting for him. And for a moment Lance nearly threw the car in reverse. He didn’t think he could do it.

_We left it all to chance……_  
_No encore_

With the heaviest heart, Lance forced himself out of the car and stumbled as if in a hazy dream towards his apartment.

_We had a love devout_  
_without a shred of doubt_  
_We never worried 'bout…_  
_other people_

_You broke the spell_  
_and wanted something else_  
_Well, go fuck yourself with…_  
_other people_

_Oh, baby it's just your body_  
_Go lay it on everybody_  
_They won't be there when you're sorry_  
_other people_

 

“Lance! Oh, thank god.” Keith shot up from the couch and ran to him on Red’s heels when he walked in the door. He stopped short, though, when Lance wouldn’t look at him. “Lance?”

“Hey...” Lance said, putting his eyes anywhere but on Keith.

“I’m glad you’re home,” Keith said in a small but encouraging voice. “Hunk said you might want to talk…” He desperately wanted to hug him but Lance’s body language stopped him from trying.

Keith’s optimism stabbing at his insides, Lance drifted silently to the couch and collapsed onto it, legs sprawling hopelessly. He stared at the floor and mindlessly rubbed Red’s ears, praying Keith would say something to change his mind, that he’d say something to save them.

“Lance… I know everything’s really fucked up right now and I want to fix it. I just… I don’t know how…” Keith began, sensing that things were bad. “But you have to know, anything that happened with Shiro, it was stupid… It didn’t mean anything. Please… You gotta believe me. I don’t love him, Lance. I _don’t!_ ”

Lance’s tired eyes drifted to him. Why was Keith _still_ talking about Shiro?

_Thank you baby, thank you babe..._  
_Darling don't explain, don't explain…_

“Lance, please...” Keith begged. “Just tell me what to do. Tell me how to fix this...”

“Keith…” Lance drew a heavy breath. “I need some time away from all this. Away from _him_ , and away from... you.” He winced as he said it.

“O-Okay…” Keith said, confused. Lance had already been gone all week. How much more time did he need? “Like, a few days? A week or… More?” He sought Lance’s eye contact but didn’t get it.

“Keith…” Lance shifted uncomfortably and forced himself to look into Keith’s soft grey eyes for what would be the hardest sentence of his life. “I’m moving out on Friday. It’d be best if you weren’t here when me and Hunk come get my stuff.”

Keith stumbled backwards as if Lance’s words were carried on a shockwave. Something was squeezing his chest and a slow but steady panic rose from his stomach, quickening his already shallow breath and leaving his limbs shaky. 

“Moving out? Wait, Lance… Are you...” Keith’s throat tightened making it hard to get the words out. It couldn’t be what it sounded like. It _couldn’t._ “Are you breaking up with me?”

“I don’t know…” Lance wailed miserably and threw his face in his hands. Keith crept to his side and placed a soft hand on his shoulder. Feeling it tremble with quiet sobs, Keith’s fingers curled into Lance’s shirt, a final plea for him to not…

“I think so…” The resigned, mournful whisper floated up from between Lance’s palms, quaking the ground beneath Keith’s feet and leveling the world around him.

“Lance, no! _No!_ How can you say that? We- We were gonna get married!” Keith cried as panic set in, but Lance just stared into empty space and slowly shook his head like he couldn’t believe it either.

“I thought we were too.”

_We had a love devout_  
_without a shred of doubt_  
_We never worried 'bout…_  
_other people_

_You broke the spell_  
_and wanted something else_  
_Well, go fuck yourself with…_  
_other people_

_Oh, baby it's just your body_  
_Go lay it on everybody_  
_They won't be there when you're sorry_

_Oh, baby it's just your body_  
_Will it know that you love somebody?_  
_Who won't be there when you're sorry..._

 

 

###  Please   **[B]** r e a k   **[U]** p  Responsibly 

_The worst breakups are the ones where you don’t fall out of love._

  
 

  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’ve made it this far, you might be a little bit of a masochist…
> 
> That song was the hauntingly beautiful [Other People](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wdiNK8_ShSk) by LP.
> 
> Alright, I’ve been a bit sneaky with this title reveal and I totally tried to throw you off with the dashes, but you know what? Keith and Lance didn’t see it coming, so I didn't want you to either!
> 
> Now, before you FREAK OUT (responsibly!), let me just say that it’s not going to be a cut and dry thing. (When is it EVER a cut and dry thing in my fics??) They still have a lot to process here and, in case it wasn't abundantly clear, _they do still love each other._ There might even be some remorse for decisions that were made in this chapter. So just hang in there and let things unfold. Because really, when do they _ever_ do X responsibly?
> 
> I am curious though, when exactly did you realize that they really were going to -reak-u-?
> 
>  
> 
> Next Chapter: **The Dust Settles**
> 
> P.S. Someone asked how many chapters this story will be. Based on my outline, I’m estimating… 20! We are _a quarter_ of the way through! _*cackles evilly*_
> 
> P.S.S If you need a pick-me-up of happier Shklance times, have a lil' something I wrote for Lance's birthday: [Birthday Sex 2.0](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15437658) It takes place just before this story.


	6. The Dust Settles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #### Please **[Break Up]** Responsibly
> 
> The news about Keith and Lance percolates through the friend group and it has it's effect on a few other relationships. And Preparations for Hunk's wedding are about to get a lot more awkward too because they are _all_ in the wedding party.
> 
>  **In this chapter:**  
>  \- Lance moves out.  
> \- Everyone, and I mean _everyone_ finds out.  
>  \- A lot of people talk. (You all finally get to see what Allura thinks about Shiro's involvement with Keith and Lance.)  
> \- There might be a few other surprises. 0:)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since last time...
> 
> I'm setting the title back to all dashes so new readers can enjoy that roller coaster too. Letters are now revealed in the chapter summaries.
> 
> I'm slowly getting through the comments from last time. Only a few big ones left!
> 
> Check out this cover [A Drop in the Ocean](https://enjayas.tumblr.com/post/176820708424/theres-fanart-already-if-youve-read-the) by my amazing friend Iysha! *clutches chest* It hurts. 
> 
> A thread of my best bud's [video reactions](https://twitter.com/enjayas_writes/status/1033169601016651776) from when I filmed him reading the last chapter, which we are referring to as "The Update". You all deserve to hear how much I cackle when I know what's coming...
> 
> Several people have expressed that they want to be able to talk to others about this fic. While I'm all for you dragging your poor, unsuspecting friends into this AU, I could also setup a discord so you can all talk to each other? DM me on Twit/Tum. If enough people are interested, I'll make one!

  


  


The days passed in a haze for Keith. A bombshell had been dropped on him, leaving him so lost he barely knew one day from the next. So out of it he even accidentally showed up to work at the diner when he wasn’t scheduled then slowly walked the three miles home in his uniform after just to pass the time. 

 

Lance had…

 

Lance had broken up with him.

 

It didn’t feel real.

Like it was all a bad dream he was eventually going to wake up from. And suddenly, just like that, everything would be fine. Everything would be normal again. Lance would be waiting for him when he got home, dancing and teasing him in the kitchen while they cooked, arguing with him about what to watch on Netflix after. He'd still be there, cuddling with him and Red on the couch that really wasn't big enough for the three of them, falling asleep on his shoulder as the hour grew late, and lying next to him while they slept.

They’d still have a future together...

Keith caught a stray tear that slid down his cheek just as he turned down their - no, not their - _his_ street. He was still getting used to separating himself from Lance in his mind.

Lost in melancholy thoughts, Keith didn’t notice the yellow hatchback Camaro sitting in the driveway and walked right past it. He let himself into his apartment to find a sweaty Hunk with his sleeves rolled up and an orange bandana tied around his forehead taping up a box in his living room. They both froze, staring at each other. Keith was thrown off while Hunk looked worried 

“Okay Hunk, there’s still some more stuff in the-” Lance came out of the bedroom carrying a box of knick-knacks and stopped as soon as he saw Keith.

“I’ll, uh- I’ll give you guys a minute.” Hunk swiftly picked up the box he'd been preparing and sidled past Keith to make a quick exit.

Eyes glued on his former boyfriend, Lance’s face waxed hurt momentarily then shifted to something hard.

“I asked you not to be here.”

“I forgot…” Keith replied softly.

Lance’s eyes got somehow sadder and he shook his head at him, like of course Keith couldn't even be bothered to remember that his boyfriend - or rather, _ex-boyfriend_ \- was moving out. 

“No- I meant that I forgot it was Friday.” Keith tried to explain but it didn’t stop Lance from making a wide berth around him with the box of his possessions. 

“And by the way...” Lance stopped on his way out the door. “I cancelled my credit card.” He picked up a package from the porch and threw it at Keith with more force than was necessary.

Keith caught it abruptly in the dead-center of his chest.

“This one I actually remember ordering,” he said quietly then watched Lance storm out.

Somehow even more numb than he was before, Keith set the package on the table and let his head and shoulders hang forward as if there was a weight pulling on them. If he was being honest, he hadn’t expected Lance to actually go through with it. That it was just an empty threat. His eyes tracked Red as she paced back and forth in the living room whining anxiously, confused and upset by the commotion. He leaned down and stroked her side to soothe himself as much as to soothe her.

The main room of their apartment looked mostly the same. Lance hadn’t moved any of the bigger furniture, most of which was actually Keith’s from his college days, though some open cabinets in the kitchen looked emptier than they’d been before. Thinking nothing of it, Keith wandered into the bedroom and his heart just about stopped in his chest.

It looked like someone had ransacked the place.

All of Lance’s posters were gone from the walls, leaving beige rectangles of unfaded paint and some lumps of sticky tack in their place. Most of the dresser drawers were pulled open and empty, one left dumped upside-down and cock-eyed on the ground. A pile of Keith’s socks lay scattered on the floor because they’d shared a sock drawer. Over half the closet was bare and the desk was totally barren too, no longer littered with Lance’s old notebooks and gaming gadgets. Keith’s breath deepened with panic. 

 

It was like… 

 

It was like half his life was missing.

 

“Hunk-” Keith looked at his friend terrified when he appeared in the room too, what was happening suddenly hitting him all at once.

“I’m sorry, Keith.” The stocky man slowly leaned down and retrieved the last of the boxes from the floor with the saddest eyes. “I really am.” He solemnly turned away and left Keith alone in the bedroom.

In a disbelieving daze, Keith stumbled to the bed and sat down on the edge of it, trying to process it all.

To his surprise, Lance returned. Keith looked up at him with betrayal in his eyes.

“Are you really doing this?”

Lance shifted uncomfortably on his feet and didn't answer.

“I left you the bedding, since I know you don’t have your own. And you can have the computer too. I’ve got my laptop. I’ll need Blue eventually, but I can carpool with Hunk to work for now so…”

Keith shook his head for him to stop. The matter-of-factness in Lance’s delivery was crushing him.

“Oh, and I’ll cover the rent for a couple more months. Give you some time to get on your feet.”

“I don’t need you to do that,” Keith insisted though he had no idea how else he was going to pay his bills. 

An unsettled Red wandered over and sat at Lance's feet. She leaned against his legs and looked up at him, wagging her tail expectantly, asking for rubs. Lance absent-mindedly scratched her head and Keith got choked up watching them.

Both of them were hesitating. There was one more thing they needed to discuss.

“What about- What about Red?” Keith almost couldn’t bring himself to say it. The stricken look on Lance’s face echoed his sentiment.

“I’m gonna take her,” Lance said firmly, cupping Red’s snout close to his leg. “Once I find a place...”

“Okay…” Keith said quietly and without argument, but he struggled to breathe, the air sucked from his lungs. “You’re definitely her favorite anyway.” He sniffed and looked away. 

Lance averted his eyes too. It was hard seeing Keith so upset. 

“Alright, I think that's it…” Lance said wearily and turned to leave.

“Lance…” Keith stood up. “Don’t do this. Please.” 

“It’s too late. It's already decided.” Lance kept walking.

“It doesn't have to be!” Keith followed him into the living room but that only made Lance walk with more intent. “Lance, come on!” He reached for the other man’s arm to stop him from leaving. 

“Keith!” Lance snatched his arm back and spun around to face him. “This is why I didn't want you here! I don’t need this to be any harder than it already is!” He turned away fast so Keith wouldn't see how badly he was tearing up. 

Resolute in his decision, he made his way out to the driveway.

“Fire her up, Hunk,” he instructed as he climbed into the waiting Camaro.

“Lance!” Keith yelled after him from the doorway. The sound of the engine had him hurrying out to the passenger side of Hunk’s car.

“Lance...” He knocked on the window as calmly as he could. “Come on. Just talk to me.”

Hunk looked from Keith to Lance in the passenger seat.

“What do you want me to do, buddy? You maybe wanna go talk to him?” Hunk suggested gently. 

Lance shook his head and didn't look up.

“Are you sure this is what you want to do?” Hunk couldn't help but to ask. “Because you don't have to. I’m just as happy to help you carry everything back in there.”

Lance waited a long moment but didn’t lift his eyes from the floor. 

“Just drive, Hunk.”

Hunk’s eyes trained on his friend saddened. He cast a sympathetic look at Keith before putting the car in reverse.

Lance didn’t look back but broke down in the passenger seat as they drove away. He buried his face in the backpack in his lap and sobbed into it.

“Aw, buddy… You okay?” Hunk patted his back while also driving.

“Hunk… I feel like I’m dying.” Lance slumped over his backpack.

“Well, I promise that you're not.” Hunk tried to encourage him. “This is all gonna suck for awhile, but you’ll be alright. Remember how crushed you were over Jenny Shaybon? And you got over her.”

Lance stared out the window despondent. “I wasn’t going to marry her.” 

Hunk frowned, not knowing what to say to that.

“Ugh, listen...” Lance did his best to pull himself together. “I don’t want any of this to impact your wedding. Like, don’t go making special arrangements on account of us or anything. Keith and I- We’ll just... be civil or something.”

“Oh yeah, sure. Don’t worry about it. We just won’t put you and Keith next to each other. We can put Shiro in between- Oh wait…That’s not gonna work either.” Hunk’s brow creased thoughtfully. “Well, maybe if we put Keith on the end and then Pidge next to him- No, then you’d have to stand next to Shiro and I’m guessing you don’t want that either.”

Lance smiled weakly.

“Whatever, we’ll figure it out.” Hunk assured him. “No matter what, you're my best man.”

Lance muttered a thanks and wiped his nose on the back of his jacket. He unlocked his phone to start texting the people who ought to know, figuring he might as well get it over with while he was still too numb to feel it.

 

\--Lance: Pidge…  
\--Lance: This is gonna seem sudden  
\--Lance: but me and Keith...  
\--Lance: *explosion*

\--Pidge: ???  
\--Pidge: SERIOUSLY??

\--Lance: Yeah. It’s over.

\--Pidge: …...HOW??  
\--Pidge: WHAT THE FUCKNACKING QUIZNUTS HAPPENED???  
\--Pidge: This is Maria now.  
\--Pidge: I demand an explanation too!

\--Lance: I can’t talk about it right now.  
\--Lance: Fill you in later.

\--Pidge: *sad face*

 

Lance moved on to the next person on his list.

 

\--Lance: Hey, I have some pretty bad news...

 

His thumbs froze and fresh tears stung his eyes. He couldn't do it. He couldn’t tell her over text. What if she didn't know it was because of Shiro? 

“Hey, Hunk…” Lance sniffed and dabbed his eyes. “Can we make a pit stop?” 

 

 

The door opened as soon as he knocked. He’d texted first to make sure Shiro wasn’t home.

“Lance! What on earth?” The woman who answered gasped at her friend’s distressed state. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun like he’d caught her in the middle of doing chores.

“Allura…” Lance brought his tear-filled eyes up to her.

She took one look at her friend’s red eyes and the car packed with his stuff and had a sinking feeling that she might know what was going on 

“Oh no…” She brought her hands to her mouth. “Is it Keith?”

Too choked up for words, Lance swallowed a sob and nodded instead. 

Allura uttered a curse and caught her friend as he fell sobbing into her arms.

At that unfortunate moment, Shiro’s black Jeep pulled into the driveway of his and Allura’s condo. Hunk waved at him sheepishly from the Camaro as he parked next to him. Shiro stepped out of the vehicle and pulled off his sunglasses to better see what was going on. His eyes drifted from the hatchback packed tight with boxes to the man crying on his doorstep. Allura held Lance protectively and glared at him over his shoulder.

Shiro stiffened. He hadn’t heard from Keith or Lance all week, figuring it was best to give them space while they sorted things out. He got the feeling, though, that it was time to end that silence.

 

\--Shiro: So Lance is here with Allura and he looks pretty upset...  
\--Shiro: Did something happen?

 

 _Please, no… Please, no… Please, no…_ Shiro's brain frantically repeated in the seconds the followed.

A reply came soon enough.

 

\--Keith: What the hell do you think happened?

\--Shiro: Please, PLEASE tell me you guys are okay…

 

Shiro’s grip on his phone tightened. It couldn’t be happening. Allura was going to kill him if...

 

\--Keith: Shiro...  
\--Keith: He moved out today.

\--Shiro: Shoot…  
\--Shiro: Keith, I am so sorry.

\--Keith: Not as sorry as me.

 

The hand holding his phone fell limp at his side and Shiro rubbed his brow, needing a moment to compose himself. Knowing he was probably the last person Lance wanted to see, he slunk around to the side entrance of their condo and made himself scarce in the den while Allura comforted their broken-hearted friend. 

His phone started going off in his pocket shortly after he’d sequestered himself. His lips pulled into a thin line when he saw it was Keith. 

 

\--Keith: Is he okay?  
\--Keith: Are you talking to him?  
\--Keith: What’s he saying?

\--Shiro: I don’t know.  
\--Shiro: I’m staying out of it.

 

He chucked his phone aside and lay down on the couch. Putting his headphones on so he couldn’t hear snatches of the conversation coming from the kitchen, Shiro shut his eyes and tried his damndest to pretend he wasn’t there. Tried his damndest to pretend he wasn’t anywhere.

 

 

Allura intentionally didn’t look at her lover after he emerged from hiding once Lance was gone. She went about making tea in the kitchen like he wasn't even there, though there was a lot of unnecessary clanging of cups and saucers. Neither of them spoke, and Shiro just stood there, waiting for it. She wasn’t going to ignore him forever.

The clattering and banging of kitchen cabinets only grew louder. She aggressively set the kettle to boil then slammed a cup and saucer down onto the counter next to the stove. With a rattling of silver, she yanked open a drawer opposite the oven and fished out a pair of spoons then sent them noisily skittering across the counter next to the cup and saucer. Spinning on her heels, she forcefully pushed the utensil drawer shut with a bang then stood on her toes to reach for a second cup.

“Allura, stop,” Shiro said kindly and caught her hand with the teacup in it before she could slam it down next to its pair. “Please talk to me.” He gently tried to take the china from her hand.

“Don’t!” She shouted, jerking herself and the cup free of his grasp. “I’m furious with you!” She spun around to face him. Her slender frame shook with rage as her fierce but hurt, blue eyes landed on him. “You really screwed the pooch on this one!”

Shiro shrank in the face of her disappointment.

“You told me they had a fight! You did _not_ tell me they were in danger of breaking up!”

“I didn’t know they were-” 

“And you did _NOT-_ ” Voice close to breaking, she slammed the cup’s base down on the countertop so hard it cracked. “- tell me the full extent of why!”

Shiro took a breath to steady himself.

“I told you there was a miscommunication and that some lines were crossed. Yes, I skimped on the details, but you don’t always like hearing those.” He reminded her. His voice remained calm and even-measured but his eyes drifted warily to the growing fissure along the side of the teacup. “And I don’t know exactly why they broke up- I’m just finding out about that today too. But I don’t doubt for a second that I had hand in it.” The guilt and sincerity creasing his brow didn’t lessen her glare. “Allura, I never thought this would happen.”

“Yes well, we’ve heard that before, haven’t we?” She spat. 

Shiro slumped further, silenced by her sharp tongue.

“Allura, please-”

“Just how many relationships are you going to destroy with your own selfishness?” She cut him off harshly and ripped the kettle from the stove just as it began to whistle. Shiro took a step back, rather shocked by her virulence. It was rare for her to be so angry with him, though he wasn’t going to contest that it wasn’t merited.

Her back turned to him, she carefully set the kettle down and stilled against the countertop, regaining some control over her emotions.

“I’m sorry... That was harsh.” Her voice softened.

“Well, you’re not entirely wrong,” Shiro conceded with a grimace. “But I’d like to think some good has come from my missteps.” He brushed his fingers down her forearm and carefully took her hand. 

She looked down at it sadly and shook her head. “You’re better than this, Shiro.”

“Am I?” His hand went limp in hers and he blinked back some very ashamed tears. “Sometimes I don’t think I am.”

She turned around to look up at him long and hard. “You have a track record, but _yes._ You _are_ better than this.” The disappointment in her eyes bore into him. “Honestly, how could you have gotten yourself into this situation? I warned you! You should never have gotten involved with them! It was never balanced! There was too much at stake!”

“I thought I could handle myself,” Shiro said after a pause and looked at her with regret.

“Darling, your love is too strong! Even for you.” Her tone shifted to sympathetic. “It’s addictive. You have this effect on people... You make their world shrink to just the space around you and in that moment all else falls by the wayside. I know because I’ve felt it.” She brought her hands up to frame his face. “I’ve seen others fall victim to it. And of course Keith...” She couldn’t finish. “He didn’t stand a chance. Lance wouldn’t have either, if you’d felt similarly for him.”

“I _do_ feel similarly for Lance,” Shiro insisted. “It’s just- I'm around Keith more.” 

The skeptical look she gave him spoke volumes. She didn’t have to tell him that he wasn’t being honest with himself.

With a heavy sigh, Shiro’s hands touched down lightly on Allura's hips and he remained pensive for some time, mulling over her words and the implications of his actions.

“I try to only act out of love, but… Maybe it is just selfishness.” He looked at her, doubtful and critical of himself.

“Well, you’re not the only one who made mistakes.” She stepped back, a flicker of guilt crossing her features. “Keith certainly made mistakes. Even _I.._. have made mistakes.” She hugged herself self-consciously.

He looked at her questioningly.

“My sympathy lies with Lance here,” she continued. “But I feel for Keith too. There’s a guilt that we share in this. In crossing that line with you.” She looked at him meaningfully.

“Hey, that was years ago.” Shiro tried to comfort her with a gentle touch of his hand but she wouldn’t accept it. “Allura, we’ve all moved past it.”

She looked at him doubtfully.

“I’m sending you to Houston,” she informed him.

Shiro sighed at length at the suggestion.

“You know I’m right.” She shook her head before he could protest further, standing firm in her adamance. “You need to talk to him. Now more than ever.”

Shiro pushed the white lock of hair back from his forehead with a tired hand. Resignation carried on his voice when he finally agreed.

“Alright.”

 

She let him think he was banished to the sofa for the night. Sipping her tea, she watched him make up the bed and even vanished to the bedroom without a word when he was done. But just before he could get too comfortable, silently and with long white curls flowing around her shoulders, a bare-footed Allura approached him in her nightgown.

Shiro sat up, surprised at first, then gazed at her like she was the sun, moon, and stars.

“Do not mistake this as forgiveness or as a lessening of my anger…” She slowly knelt to be eye-level with him, love and understanding in her eyes. “But in this house we don’t sleep alone. Even when we’re angry.” 

Taking his hand, she pulled him off the sofa and led him to their bed.

 

\-----

_A few weeks later._

\-----

 

On the far side of a luxurious penthouse suite, the first in command approached her leader at his desk where he sat with impeccable, ergonomically-correct posture, intently focused and busily typing into a laptop. A black cat lay curled up in his lap and a pair of cordless earbuds were plugged into his ears.

“Sir, the agenda for the ribbon cutting ceremony.” She said once she had his attention and handed him an itinerary for the grand opening of Sincline General. “How’s the speech coming along?” She edged around his desk to peer over his shoulder only to see that he was not, in fact, working on a speech.

“The Garrison boy again?” She said in response to the gallery of pictures he was flipping through and looked at him disappointed. “Give it a rest. And you've been listening to that for weeks.” She hit the spacebar to pause the file that was playing. “Stop looking for signs of weakness where there aren’t any!”

He pulled his earbuds out and gave her a look then defiantly flipped his hair over one shoulder.

She sighed with frustration, at a loss for what to do. The Garrison boy distraction was getting worse and worse by the day.

“I could have had him for you, you know...” She hadn't said a word about the mission he’d called off until then. “And I can still go get him. Just say the word and he’s yours,” she offered, taking rare pity on his fixation and perhaps playing into his desperation. Anything if it would move the situation along faster. “If you really want to see him that badly…”

“Acxa…” He smiled kindly at the temptation. “You know it cannot happen that way.”

“Why not?” She huffed and stomped her foot. “This could all be over tonight if you’d just let me-”

“My dear.” The cat scattered as he rose to his feet and took her by the elbows. “Second chances are a rare commodity in this life, but third ones?” He shook his head. “Those don’t exist. We _have_ to get this right. _I_ have to get this right.” His eyes asked her for understanding.

“And just how much are you willing to sacrifice in the meantime?” She was prepared to challenge him on this. “We’re already three months behind schedule on the next batch of quintessence and you’ve _never_ been late before. There’s no guarantee your plan will even work!” 

“It _will_ work,” he said confidently. “Eventually, he will come to me.”

“This obsession is damaging your business and your reputation. And by extension, all of ours!” Acxa cast her hand to the other generals who were scattered throughout the spacious suite pretending not to be listening. 

“I just need a little more time.”

“For what? So you can sit around gazing at pictures all day?” She sighed, not enjoying having to be so firm with him. “Lotor, none of the pressure we’ve applied has had the desired effect and it's costing us. It's costing us dearly! So before we dig ourselves further in the hole, I just-” She stopped and looked up at the leader she so deeply respected almost sadly. “I just hope you know what you’re doing.” 

Lotor sank back into his chair and rested his brow against his fingertips. His confidence waned for the first time as the realization that he might not be winning this battle crossed his mind.

“I need you to consider the possibility that this Garrison boy fantasy is just that… a fantasy.” She said carefully, and for a second, it looked like her words almost got through to him.

“Wait, are you guys talking about Lance?” Ezor piped up from across the hotel suite where she’d been making coffee. She was the only one who hadn’t been listening closely.

“Yes.” “No.” Lotor and Acxa answered together.

“Oh yeah, I think they might have finally broken up,” Ezor casually informed them.

“What?” Acxa cried.

“When?” Lotor sat up straight again. She had his full attention.

“I’m not sure exactly, but he hasn’t been sleeping at his apartment for a while now, so…”

“Why am I only just now hearing of this?”

Ezor and Zethrid stiffened and exchanged nervous glances at the hardening of his tone.

“We’ve been busy! You heard Acxa, we’re three months behind on deliveries!” Zethrid took it upon herself to defend them.

“And uh... we wanted to be sure?” Ezor offered, sounding anything but.

“Are you?” Lotor pressed.

“Reasonably.” Zethrid answered for them.

“Find out for certain, but excellent work, you two!” Positively giddy, Lotor slapped his hands together and, much to Acxa's chagrin, began furiously clicking through files on his laptop again. “It is time for the next phase.”

“Alright! So what are we gonna do now?” Ezor asked playfully, ready to stir up more trouble.

“Absolutely nothing.” Lotor smiled smugly.

“What?” “Huh?” Ezor and Zethrid cried at the same time. Even Acxa turned her head.

Narti flashed her phone to Ezor.

“Narti says she doesn’t follow.”

Lotor rested his elbows on the desk and pressed his fingertips together, looking at them over the bridge his hands formed.

“If you recall the four pillars of our plan. Proximity. Pressure. Persistence…” He counted them off. “Can anyone tell me what comes next?”

Narti typed quickly.

“Patience.” Ezor read off her screen.

“Precisely.” Lotor grinned widely at her while Acxa rolled her eyes out of his line of sight. She was fresh out of that P.

“So, what, we’re just gonna sit here and keep waiting for him to come waltzing through the door?” Acxa couldn’t resist pointing out the absurdity of that plan. They’d be waiting decades. Zethrid, too, scoffed under her breath at his wishfulness, but silenced herself when her leader's eyes flashed up at her from his keyboard.

“What makes you think he even remembers you’re an option.” Acxa meant for her words to cut.

“You know, Acxa. I think you might be right.” Lotor looked at her carefully.

“I am?” She blinked at him. Was he finally coming to his senses?

“Yes.” Lotor tapped his bottom lip thoughtfully as his gaze darted over the ceiling. “We have to think of a way... to remind him. And I think I know how to accomplish just that.”

His eyes blazed and he intently leaned over his laptop again.

Zethrid and Ezor knew that look. It was his scheming face. They shrugged to one another and left him to it, but Narti cocked her head and remained interested.

“Lotor, you have a speech to be working on.” Acxa pleaded with him. “We can’t waste any more time with- Lotor?”

He wasn't listening.

Acxa grit her teeth and had half a mind to go collect the Garrison boy herself. So the inevitable rejection could happen and the whole saga could finally be put to rest. So they could move on to more important matters, like getting their business back on track. She knew Lotor would probably never forgive her for intervening like that, but they couldn't wait forever.

Standing there, helplessly watching their leader pour more of their time and resources down the drain, Acxa began hatching a plan of her own.

 

\-----

 

Allura had taken Shay out shopping for wedding sarees with her sisters while Hunk’s side of the wedding party assembled for a planning meeting. The first of many. Lance had wanted it to be somewhere more casual, like at a bar, but Shay's brother Rax had insisted on renting out a co-working space because they would 'get more done that way’.

More importantly though, it was going to be the first time Keith and Lance saw each other since their breakup. They hadn’t spoken since and some members of the group were on edge, not sure how it was going to go having them in close quarters again when wounds were still fresh. And with Shiro present too…

Surprisingly though, Lance was rather chipper, likely because neither of the pair that had _'wronged him’_ had shown up yet. He sat on a couch the room provided chatting with Hunk and Pidge while Rax, surly as ever, kept to himself in a corner.

“Are you gonna be okay, like, seeing him again?” Hunk asked, concerned for his friend.

“Yeah, whatever. It'll be fine.” Lance waved him off. He really didn't want to think about it. In fact, he planned on ignoring Keith as much as possible.

Hunk and Pidge exchanged worried glances. 

Keith and Shiro were the last to arrive and the room got very quiet when they did. Lance’s insides froze over when he saw that they had come… together. Even Pidge cocked an eyebrow at the boldness.

“You guys are late,” Rax complained, unfazed by anything else.

Keith muttered an apology and quickly took the nearest empty seat, which happened to be on the couch next to Lance. His former boyfriend shifted away from him, crossed his arms, and proceeded to pretend that he wasn’t there. Shiro hung back, staying on his feet behind the couch with his arms folded too.

“So nice of you to join us… _with Shiro._ ” Pidge adjusted her glasses from where she sat cross-legged on the floor and cast a rare shade of judgement at the duo. _‘What are you doing?’_ She mouthed ferociously at Keith.

It took a second for Keith to realize how it looked. He looked at Pidge in a panic when it finally clicked. She gestured for him to explain it to Lance. _Quick._

“Hey, um... I just got a ride with him. Blue’s in the shop.” He explained quietly to Lance.

“Didn’t ask,” came Lance’s punchy retort.

Keith sighed and tried not to dwell on the fact that he already had a strike against him while they all got settled for the start of the meeting.

Pidge stayed on the floor in front of Lance, who sprawled his long legs out taking up a full two seats of the couch while Keith wedged himself as far into the other end of it as possible. Shiro remained standing, not about to ask Lance to make room for him. Hunk sat in an armchair off to the side and Rax squatted on an ottoman next to the whiteboard, a clipboard and several pages of notes in-hand. 

Even though technically Lance was the best man and should have been in charge, Rax took the lead in the meeting. Lance didn’t bother arguing with him.

“Alright, we’re going to go over the list of events you’re all expected to be at.” Rax wrote EVENTS in all caps on the whiteboard with an obnoxiously squeaky marker. “There’s a lot, so pay attention and look out for calendar invites in your inboxes...” He proceeded to write out a list with the same ear-piercing pen.

“Could he make this any less fun?” Lance scoffed to Pidge, who snickered quietly. Keith overheard him too and had to agree. Rax was _really_ boring.

“Okay, before we go over these one-by-one, a note on the wedding party. There’s five of us and five bridesmaids-”

“Oh, yeah! The bridesmaids!” Lance's eyes lit up. “Do me a solid, Rax, and pair me up with your hottest sister.” He smiled like his teeth sparkled, and it had Keith seething on the other end of the couch. So much so that Shiro put a hand on his shoulder to calm him.

“Lance, was it?” Rax asked, gruff as ever.

“The one and only.” Lance presented himself as if he were a prize.

“Yeah, you’re getting paired with our gay cousin, Esther.” Rax glared and made a note on his clipboard.

“Well joke’s on you because I am bi,” Lance declared proudly.

Pidge and Keith both turned to give him a look.

“That’s not how it works!” Keith growled.

“Don’t talk to me about bisexuality, Keith. If I recall correctly, that’s something you never understood!” Lance bit back.

“That’s still not how it- You know what, nevermind!” Keith threw his arms up. He knew better than to argue with stupid and Lance was being impressively so. 

“Christ, has he gotten dumber since you guys broke up?” Pidge complained to him then apologized awkwardly for bringing it up.

Keith just shrugged and sighed his cheek into his palm. At least Rax seemed as opposed to Lance flirting with his sisters as he was.

Tux fittings over the Thanksgiving holidays - turkey would be provided, an engagement party for all of Shay’s extended family in December, something about formal photos after the turn of the year… Rax continued to drone on about the details while most of the group struggled to pay attention. Hunk was almost nodding off in his seat and even Shiro was starting to fidget. “And lastly, the wedding is in March. Final date TBD, so clear your calendars for that entire month.” He concluded.

“Hey, what about a bachelor party?” Lance suggested, looking to liven things up.

“A what…” Rax looked displeased at the idea.

“You know, a bachelor party?” Lance waited for any signs of understanding and got none. “Jesus, dude, are you from Earth? It's one last night out for all us guys - and Pidge - to go out and bond before Hunk here ties the knot!” He excitedly clambered off the couch mid-explanation to plop down on the side of the armchair and sling an arm over his friend’s shoulders.

“I’m familiar with the concept.” An annoyed Rax informed him.

“Yeah, we can get the big guy nice and drunk,” Lance continued like Rax hadn’t tried to stop him. “Smoke some cigars, maybe hit up a strip club or two, make sure ol’ Hunk here - and me - have a real good time with the ladies on his last night of freedom.” He framed a sly grin with his thumb and forefinger.

“I’m not sure I like the sound of that for a guy who’s marrying my sister.” Rax scowled and folded his arms.

Keith was equally dismayed at the idea. The last thing he wanted to see was a bunch of girls all over Lance.

“Yeah, I’m not a fan of strip clubs, either,” he chimed in.

“It’s not about you, Keith! It’s for Hunk!” Lance reminded him rather rudely.

“It’s not about you either, Lance!” Keith shot back.

“Uh, guys?” Hunk jumped in to diffuse the situation. “Look, I don’t know if I’m really a strip club kind of guy…” He interjected quickly and eyed his future brother-in-law nervously.

“Well, we could always get a hotel and hire a few for a more _private_ party,” Lance suggested, rubbing his hands together.

Keith rolled his eyes at the way Lance's eyebrows were waggling. It was like he'd completely reverted to his thirsty teenage self in the span of a couple weeks. Had he really dated this guy? 

“Yeah, I don’t think a private party is in the budget.” Rax shut down that idea too.

“Okay, let me rephrase that…” Hunk tried again. “I’m not really a _stripper_ kind of guy.”

“Hunk, it’s a bachelor party! It’s practically a rite of passage!” Lance protested, pushing Keith nearer his boiling point with every word.

“How about a nice restaurant or something?” Hunk suggested instead. “Oh, oh! Like that one Brazilian steakhouse!”

“Yes! Strip steak and strip-pers!” Lance smirked around the room, entirely too proud of that one.

“Then maybe a harbor cruise?” Hunk added.

“Hell yeah! A nautical theme and girls on a boat!” Lance cried. “I know I’d be happy to show them the Captain’s quarters.” He flashed a smarmy grin and something inside Keith snapped.

“LANCE, WILL YOU SHUT UP ABOUT STRIPPERS?!” He exploded onto his feet. And suddenly, all eyes turned to him, including Lance's.

“Jeez, don’t get your panties in a bunch! We can always hire a dude for you too!” Lance hit him with attitude. “Hell, I bet Shiro would take that job.”

“Lance...” Shiro, who had been staying out of it, flashed his eyes, cautioning Lance to knock it off.

“I’m just saying it would fit the budget,” Lance snorted self-righteously at Shiro. “Especially since you’re all over him for free.”

“Okay, that is not appropriate!” Keith clenched his fists and stepped between his ex and Shiro.

“Oh, I’m the one that’s being inappropriate?” Lance pushed himself off the edge of the arm chair and moved closer, getting right up in Keith’s face. “Says the cheater who showed up to plan a wedding.”

Keith's teeth gnashed and they were at each other's throats in the next breath. Hunk clamped his hands over his ears at the volume while Shiro tiredly put his face in his hand. Nothing about their argument was intelligible. Rax looked at the man who was marrying his sister, thoroughly unimpressed.

Pidge managed to wedge herself between the arguing pair before it came to blows. 

“Okay, time out!” She cried and shoved them apart. Hunk helped too, pulling Lance to one side while she and Shiro wrangled an extremely worked-up Keith.

It took a few minutes of their friends talking them down in their respective corners for both of them to come to their senses. Lance was busy whining to Hunk about how impossible Keith was being, while Keith stood with his arms folded, stealing rather hurt glances at Lance while pretending to listen to what Pidge and Shiro were saying to him.

 

A new seating arrangement was organized before the meeting resumed, one that provided a healthy buffer between the volatile parties. Shiro was put by himself in the armchair, Hunk took the ottoman, and Pidge was moved in front of him on the floor.

“Okay, we’ve established _no strippers_ ,” Rax repeated from the middle of the couch, where he sat book-ended by a disgruntled, cross-armed Keith and an equally pissed off and pouting Lance. Rax looked even less happy about the arrangement than the former couple. “And as for a bachelor party...” He sighed. “I guess we can have one.”

“I’m the best man. I’ll plan the bachelor party.” Lance moodily lay down his claim on that responsibility.

“I will allow that on one condition,” Rax stated firmly.

“Jeez, alright already! No strippers!” Lance repeated. “Thanks to a certain spoil sport...” He added testily, keeping his gaze in the opposite direction of Keith.

“It's me. I'm the spoil sport. He's talking about me.” Hunk took one for the team in the hopes it would prevent any further disagreements.

“Good. Moving on.” Rax picked up where they’d left off before the whole bachelor party debacle.

They were able to get through the rest of the agenda without incident. Keith didn’t contribute further and zoned out miserably for most of it, only tuning back in the few times Lance entered into the conversation and usually only in a way that left him annoyed.

As soon as they were done, Rax saw himself out fast, grumbling something about how he’d driven two hours to be a part of this nonsense. A frazzled-looking Shiro excused himself pretty quickly too, but Keith and Lance lingered. Ever astute, Pidge caught on that they needed a minute alone and ushered a demoralized Hunk out of the room as nonchalantly as possible. She shot them a look over her shoulder that they better figure their shit out as she left.

 

Arms tightly crossed and their eyes fixed firmly on the wall across the room - definitely not able to stomach looking at each other - Keith and Lance sat on opposite ends of the couch in silence.

“This sucks…” Keith said once everyone else was gone.

“You’re tellin’ me,” Lance slumped lower on the sofa next to him. At least there was one thing they could agree on.

“I can’t stand being around you…” Keith spoke the revelation as he was realizing it. “Everything you say either makes me want to die or want to put my fist in your mouth.”

Lance huffed wryly. What do you know, there was another thing they could agree on. 

“Welcome to a breakup. I guess you’ve never been on this side of it before.”

“Does it get any easier?” Keith asked.

“Eventually. When you stop caring.”

Both of them shifted uncomfortably at that sobering thought.

“What are we gonna do?” Keith asked at a total loss. They had months of being in the same room together ahead of them.

“I don’t know, ask Pidge to build us a time machine?”

Keith’s head snapped to the man next to him, shocked that Lance had somehow managed to convey both snark and the depths of his sadness in the same breath. The hurt on his face was all too apparent too - hurt he had put there - and it left Keith aching. Suddenly he wasn’t annoyed anymore.

“Hey, Lance, I’m sorry I-”

“Look...” Lance was quick to cut him off and kept his eyes tuned to the wall across the room. “I hate this as much as you do, but we gotta get along for Hunk’s sake. So let’s just agree to keep our interactions to a minimum and not get into it with each other. Deal?” He finally turned to Keith, a sad sincerity in his eyes, and extended a hand to him. “Put up with each other for Hunk? For this wedding?”

Keith stared at the peace offering for a long moment. _Put up with each other…_ He hated the way Lance phrased it, but what other choice did he have?

“Deal,” he said softly and took Lance’s hand. “For Hunk.”

They shook on it. Keith tried to hold onto Lance’s hand for as long as possible but eventually Lance pried himself free. Without another word or glance at the other man in the room, he made his exit, leaving Keith alone on the couch.

 

\-----

 

Keith took Shiro to the airport after the disastrous meeting. It was the other reason they’d driven together and he really was borrowing the Jeep while Blue’s bumper got repaired. He’d damaged it pretty badly in his most recent driving stunt.

They didn’t talk much on the ride over. Shiro was traveling light with only a backpack, but Keith still got out of the car to see him off.

“Hey, are you doing okay with all this? I never asked…” Keith said apologetically. 

“Yeah, I’m great.” Shiro shrugged it off and forced a smile that Keith could have spotted a mile away.

“Really because you don't look-”

“I just need to get out of town for a few days.” 

Not used to being cut off by Shiro, Keith was taken aback and dropped the matter entirely.

“You gonna be okay watching the gym while I’m gone? Those kids can be a handful.” Another fake smile.

“I’ll manage,” Keith replied flatly, not faking emotions in return.

In lieu of their normal hug which would have felt inappropriate given the circumstances, they stood across from each other for an extended moment not really knowing what to do.

“Okay, then.” Shiro cleared his throat.

“Yeah, okay. Have a good trip.”

They settled for awkwardly nodding at each other and Keith watched his trainer’s broad shoulders disappear through the reflective, automatic double doors of the terminal.

He sighed and kicked the curb once he was alone. 

Shiro wasn’t okay and Keith knew it. Nobody was okay. Lance wouldn’t even _look_ at him, nevermind talk to him. They couldn’t even be in the same room together without it devolving into utter chaos and now Shiro wasn't being honest with him either? What the hell was going on? The two people he cared about most were completely shutting him out and Keith had never felt more alone. 

Hugging his elbows, he leaned against the black Jeep and looked at his sullen reflection in the mirrored doors, wondering when exactly it was that his life had gotten so… weird.

 

\-----

 

Lance went back to Hunk’s place and collapsed on the couch that had been his bed for the past few weeks feeling like the biggest idiot on the planet. He hated what an insufferable fuckboy he turned into around Keith. Why, _why_ had he made such a big deal about strippers?

Because he knew it would get under Keith’s skin, that’s why. And he’d made a complete fool of himself in the process.

He cringed at his behavior. He’d even dragged Shiro into it. 

Well, fuck Shiro. Lance decided he didn’t feel bad about that part.

“You okay in here?” A tired-sounding Hunk popped in to check on him before turning in for the night.

“Yeah…” Lance replied wearily. “Hey, Hunk, I’m sorry about… all that. We made you look pretty bad in front of Rax.”

Hunk shrugged that it was okay, but it was clear he wasn’t pleased.

“I just want you to know that I talked to Keith, and we promise- _he and I_ promise that it won’t happen again.”

“Thanks, man. I’d appreciate it.” Hunk smiled and flipped out the lights. “Goodnight, buddy.”

“‘Night.”

The back of Lance’s head hit the pillow and he freed a heavy breath between his lips, letting the remaining unpleasantness of the day out with it. Shifting to get comfortable, he tried not to think about how surprisingly good and yet equally terrible it had been to see Keith again. He hadn’t expected it to leave him so... conflicted. 

Annoyed with himself, Lance scrunched onto his side and traced his thumb over his fingers in the dark with a pained groan. He could still feel the heat from Keith’s hand burning against his palm from when they’d shook on their agreement.

 

\-----

 

Several hours and a bumpy plane ride later, Shiro stepped out of a different terminal and into the familiar, muggy Texas air. Less thick than in the summertime, a hint of a chill carried on the breeze, indicative of the changing of the seasons. He dropped his carry-on backpack in the pickup area and scanned the crowd.

Texas, a place he sometimes escaped to when he needed to get away. When he needed to reset. When he needed to soul search. And Houston, the headquarters of NASA and the home of a certain ponytailed rocket scientist he shared a complicated history with. The very person he was there to see.

His eyes continued to scan hopefully.

“Well, look at what the cat dragged in.”

A familiar voice sounded off to his side. A huge grin plastered across Shiro’s face as he turned to greet its owner.

“Hey, nerd,” he smirked, taking in a messy ponytail and straight-from-the-lab work slacks. “You trying to sneak up on me again?”

“We both know, Commander Shirogane, that _you_ are the one who likes to sneak up on people.” Shiro's favorite nerd said with a playful quirk of his lip.

“Is that so?” Shiro chuckled.

“I know I never saw you coming.” Matt’s eyes tracked up and down the man in front of him. Gradually though, his sideways smile faded and he shifted away from their banter. “So I heard some things…”

“Did you?” Shiro cringed. He’d been hoping news hadn’t traveled so fast.

“Mmhmm.” Matt nodded. “That big heart of yours got you in trouble again.” He smiled kindly but also with a sad kind of longing.

Shiro dropped his head with a heavy sigh. “You would know better than anyone.”

Matt cocked his head to the side with a particular, smug brand of sympathy then held his arms out for the other man.

“Come here, Takashi.”

Shiro stumbled forward then fell, willingly, gratefully, into them.

“God, Matt…” He held onto the other man, his safe harbor in this storm. “I messed everything up again. It’s me, isn’t it... I’m the problem.” He began to lose his composure and didn’t care if it attracted the eyes of nosy passers-by. 

“Shhh… I’m sure it wasn’t just you.” Matt’s hand played at the back of Shiro’s neck as long-restrained emotions were finally set free.

“I never meant to-” Shiro stumbled over a sob. “I never meant to take her from you…”

“Oh, T…” Matt’s grip on the sturdy body in his arms tightened. “You took me from her just as much as you took her from me.”

Shiro’s frame rocked with another sob. 

“But you know what?” Matt pulled him back and framed his square face with his hands. “Now you’re the thread that ties us all together.” His smile returned and a radiance blazed in his eyes. 

“Barely…” Shiro scoffed at that optimistic statement. Matt never stayed for more than a day when it was the three of them.

“We’ll get there. I have faith.” He held Shiro’s gaze until a sliver of his smile was returned. “It’s been one hell of a ride, Commander, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I wouldn’t have  
_you_ any other way.” 

“Matt…” Shiro breathed just before the other man leaned in and kissed his pliant, waiting lips.

And in that moment, there was no person that Takashi Shirogane needed more. 

In Matt’s arms, he knew forgiveness.

  


  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shiro is a hot poly mess. Broken up klance might be an even hotter mess.
> 
> I hope you laughed at least once after the sob-fest that was chapter 5. Can't wait to hear your thoughts!  
>  
> 
> Next Chapter: **A Reminder**


	7. A Reminder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance gets some tough love from Pidge and opens up to her about his perspective on the break up. Oh, and about that project Lotor's been working on…
> 
> In this chapter:  
> \- Somebody contemplates a change.  
> \- Somebody makes a power play.  
> \- Somebody makes a move.
> 
>  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm *almost* caught up with ch 5/6 comments. Will get to the remaining few and the tumblr asks tomorrow! Thank you so much! Your comments mean the world to me! 
> 
> This was supposed to be a short chapter, yet it might be the longest one yet?? o_O
> 
> I have a lot of criticisms for myself on this update, and to be honest, I'm still not entirely sure I pulled it off. You'll have to let me know when you're done reading. Ugh, writing a new type of scene is always a ~~completely nerve-wracking~~ fun challenge. ^ ^;;;

  
 

It was a bright and cheery Saturday afternoon in late November, but to Lance it felt anything but. The sole inhabitant of a dimly lit living room, he sat on the couch in nothing but his boxers, hunched over a laptop. The bedsheets he’d slept under were messily scattered around him. Late morning had given way to early afternoon but the drapes were still drawn. Hints of the mid-day sun creeping around the edges of the curtains went unnoticed, the main source of light being the bluish glow from the screen holding his attention. A variety of food containers and empty bottles littered the floor at his feet in a scene reminiscent of an ill-kempt dorm room. 

He’d completely taken over Hunk’s living room. There was a mild guiltiness milling in his conscience for being so shameless in someone else’s home but he just couldn’t bring himself to care.

He’d really thrown himself into his work since things had fallen apart with Keith. It was a wanted distraction and he’d earned his fair share of praise from Coran for his efforts, but he’d let pretty much everything else fall by the wayside. He hadn't shaved in days and was sporting more of a ten day scruff than a 5 o’clock shadow. Scratching at the itchy beginnings of a beard, Lance stared at a travel itinerary he’d pulled up after running out of work emails to answer.

A roundtrip flight to Miami. 

For two. 

The tickets he’d booked for him and Keith to visit his family over the holidays, which were rapidly approaching. The trip they were _supposed_ to be going on as a recently engaged couple. A trip during which Keith was _supposed_ to be meeting his entire family for the first time. A happy finale to the year that was _supposed_ to mark the beginning of planning the rest of their lives together.

But it hadn’t turned out like that.

Lance let out a heavy sigh, his cursor hovering over the ‘change reservation’ button. He figured Keith’s ticket was a sunk cost at that point, but maybe if he spent hours pleading with a sales representative he could at least transfer some of the value to airline credit. 

He thought about it, but didn't move to act on it. He’d had that tab open for days, but there was something in his gut telling him not to cancel it yet. To just… wait and see. That dumb part of him that couldn’t help but to hope.

Lance’s annoyance with himself only grew. Hope was currently a four-letter word he wasn’t interested in. Switching back to his work emails instead, he slumped with dismay because there wasn’t anything new in his inbox. He was starting to detest weekends. The unstructured time left him feeling particularly lost.

“Knock knock.” Hunk’s voice and the sound of knuckles hitting against the doorframe to the living room sounded. 

Lance didn’t bother looking up.

“You’ve got a visitor.”

“Let’s go, Lance. Up and at ‘em.” Sporting a freshly buzzed uncercut, the aforementioned visitor charged across the living room and threw open the curtains. Lance squinted and emitted a wordless but vocal complaint at the influx of light.

“Pidge is here.” Hunk announced.

 _“Whyyyyy?"_ Lance whined as she opened the blinds wider and wrapped himself up in his blue blanket.

“To get your sulking ass out of the house for a change,” Pidge answered. “Oh, yikes… You weren't kidding.” She said to Hunk after seeing her sullen friend and the messiness clustered around the couch in better lighting. She waded through a tide of empty plastic bottles to tug on one end of the comforter, prepared to remove him by force if necessary. “Come on. We’re going out.”

“Pass.” Lance flopped back to horizontal, pulling the blanket and his small friend still attached to the end of it with him.

“Come on, buddy. Some fresh air would do you good.” Hunk encouraged.

“I have a lot of work to do.” Lance reached for the comfort of his laptop again.

“No new emails,” Pidge read loudly over his shoulder and pointed at the big, fat ‘0’ at the top of his inbox. “I guess even Coran knows how to enjoy the weekend, unlike _someone_ we know,” she said sharply and tried to close his laptop.

“What is this, an intervention?” Lance leapt off the couch and yanked his computer away from her.

“If that will get your ass off the couch, then yes!” She snapped, jumping to get at the laptop being held out of reach over her head. “I’m gonna take you to a street fair.” She jumped. “Get you a corn dog or something!” _Jump._ “Cheer your sorry ass up!” She jumped and flailed with all her might.

“Mmm, corn dogs and street fair food. Sounds delicious.” Hunk said, rubbing his belly clearly trying to tempt him.

“Come on Lance. You can’t keep living like this.” Pidge stopped jumping and gestured at the hovel he’d transformed Hunk’s living room into.

Lance looked at them tired and annoyed, but if he was triggering parental instincts in his friends there was probably some credence to their concerns. He touched the scruffiness that covered his face and looked at the state of the room he’d been existing in.

“Fine,” he eventually grumbled.

 

Pidge helped him tidy up around the couch first, and then, almost an hour later because she had insisted he shower and shave too, they set off out in Pidge’s green Subaru. In the passenger seat, Lance rubbed his freshly smooth face which was now a different kind of itchy.

“Alright, pipsqueak. Where are we going again?”

“Farmers market and the pet store. We need food and Bii-Boh-Bi does too.” 

“I thought you said it was a street fair…”

“Same thing.” She kicked the car into gear and reversed down the driveway.

It was _not_ the same thing, but Lance didn’t bother arguing. 

He put his chin in his palm and stared boredly out the window, accepting that his fate was in her hands for the afternoon. Though he was mildly peeved at being dragged along for what were essentially errands, he kept his grumblings to himself. Another source of irritation was, at the very least, taking his mind off what to do about the plane tickets.

 

 

In the opposite end of town to where Pidge and Lance were headed, Keith was busy inhaling a plate of eggs and bacon just before the start of his shift. Though he’d previously been unimpressed, meals at the diner were now the best food he was getting. It was his main reason for trying so hard to keep that job. It also had him realizing how much Lance had pulled both their weight in the kitchen. After carbonizing a Poptart so badly that his entire apartment complex’s smoke detectors had gone off and not knowing that greasing the pan was necessary before scrambling eggs, Keith had accepted that he was totally inept in the cooking department. 

It made sense in hindsight. He’d been a certified disaster in chem lab, and like Hunk, his unfortunate but chemistry-inclined lab partner used to say, chemistry was just cooking that you couldn’t eat! Not that that had helped Keith much. He’d still almost failed.

Keith was counting his failures a lot lately. He’d failed at the basic art of feeding himself. He’d failed to secure better employment. He was actively failing to pay his bills. But most spectacularly of all... In his first real relationship ever, he’d failed at being a boyfriend.

Shoving the last strip of bacon into his mouth all in one go, Keith bailed from the counter before he fell back down that rabbit hole. No sense in beating himself up over it. It was only going to make his shift more miserable.

Not that he didn’t deserve every shred of that misery...

Fighting off the impending gloom that seemed to follow him these days, he grabbed his apron and headed to the back to change into uniform. A flyer on the cork board outside the bathrooms caught his attention.

**Tutors wanted. Subjects: High school math, english, SAT prep…**

Keith stopped to consider it. It had been a while, but he’d been pretty good at math back at the Garrison. Lord knows he’d dragged Lance’s ass through enough differential equations problem sets in college. And with a physics degree under his belt, teaching a few kids basic algebra couldn’t be that hard. 

Keith wasn’t exactly the cocky type, but math, logic, problems with procedural solutions and only one right answer? Sounded like a piece of cake! Plus, he needed the extra cash since he'd taken a step back from helping out Shiro at the gym, and technically he’d even be using his degree. Maybe that would make Lance happier than a dead end, minimum wage job at a dingy diner.

Not that he needed to make Lance happy anymore… 

The thought threatened to demotivate him from even bothering. What was the point? A new job wasn’t going to bring Lance home. It wasn’t going to undo the past or magically absolve him of his mistakes. It wasn’t going to fix all that was broken.

Keith spent some time up in his own head in front of that corkboard, going back and forth and cutting dangerously into the start of his shift. 

After convincing himself that he definitely wouldn’t be doing it for Lance, that he’d be doing it for himself, Keith came to a decision. He checked that no one was watching first and instead of taking one of the pre-cut numbers at the bottom of the paper, ripped the entire flyer off the wall.

 

 

To Lance’s surprise, the farmers market was, in fact, a full-blown street fair. The cordoned off block ran thick with milling crowds and several banners reading _‘Grand Opening’_ in gold print hung across the main street of the festival. The sides of the roads were dotted with booths selling various goods and assorted food stands busily catered to long lines. There was even a carnival with a small ferris wheel.

It took awhile to find parking in all the hubbub but eventually police officers controlling the flow of traffic directed them to a newly constructed parking garage. Lance was antsy by the time they parked but not looking forward to being in the crowds either. The smell of freshly grilled meat on the air and the rumbling it triggered in his belly convinced him to give it a go.

It was chilly out but not so cold that they could see their own breath. In a navy blue bomber jacket and grey scarf he’d donned for the crisp, late November air, Lance traipsed after Pidge in her forest green overcoat.

Together, the pair wandered into the fray, snacking on free samples and seeing what the plethora of vendors had to offer. They even stopped to play a few clearly rigged carnival games that ordinarily would have had Pidge griping about unfair odds. Lance appreciated that she was going out of her way to make him feel better, but other than the change of scenery, he wasn’t really feeling it. The lamp posts and tree trunks done up in Christmas lights kept reminding him that it was that time of year and his holidays were looking rather grim.

Aside from that, something in him felt… off. He was on edge. Goosebumps kept spreading over his forearms and there was an uneasiness brewing in his stomach that he couldn’t quite place. He passed it off to the noise and crowds. After being in near-isolation for the better part of a month, he suspected he might be experiencing some slight agoraphobia.

Pidge suggested they ride the ferris wheel or maybe see if they had his favorite - bumper cars - but all she got was a shrug and a half-hearted ‘maybe later’.

“Well, do you wanna get something to eat?” She asked instead, trying not to be frustrated with him.

“Yeah, I guess.” Despite being rather hungry, Lance remained unenthused.

They continued towards the pop-up food stalls. Pidge tried to lighten the mood again when they stopped at a produce stand on the way.

“Look, I’m Coran.” She held a crooked carrot under her nose and thumbed the rooty end of the vegetable. “I mustache you a question.”

Lance’s lip barely twitched.

“Nothing? Come on. You love making fun of Coran!”

“Sorry, Pidge… I’m just not in the mood.”

“This whole breakup thing still got you down, huh?” She put down the carrot and stopped avoiding the elephant in the room. It was clearly what was on Lance's mind. “You wanna maybe… talk about it?”

Lance’s unamused eyes flitted to her. The offer did not sound genuine.

“No, hey! I’m serious.” She grabbed his arm as he turned away to assure him. “How’re you doing with all that?” 

“About as great as can be expected,” he replied moodily, not even doing the question the honor of snark. “But it’s not my first breakup, so…” He shrugged with resignation and picked up a seasonal squash from the stand, running his thumb over the gnarls in its yellow skin. “I was prepared for everything to suck for a while, but... I’m pretty sure it’s his first break-up though.” Concern creased his brow as he mindlessly set the gourd back on the pile.

“Awfully nice of you to be worried about him.” Pidge adjusted her glasses to better consider her friend.

“I’m not-” Lance stopped arguing mid-breath. “Yeah, okay. I _am_ worried about him. But he’s got Shiro to look out for him so…” He put his hands in his jacket pockets and kicked at nothing on the ground.

“Shiro, huh? You never did fill me in on what happened there.” Pidge gently edged them into the topic.

“Oh, god... _That_ disaster.” Lance slumped further. He both did and didn’t want to talk about it but supposed Pidge deserved to know. He could only imagine what she’d picked up via rumor. “It’s kind of complicated...” He started, not totally sure how he was going to explain it to her. It had been awkward enough telling Hunk. “And to be honest, it’s a bit of a weird situ-”

“Word on the street is you guys were fucking Shiro and then he made off with Keith.” She saved him the hemming and hawing.

“That’s not exactly what- Wait, how the hell do you know that?” Lance gawked at her.

“I have my ways.” She grinned with a gleam of her glasses. 

Lance realized he should have figured. Pidge was - in a very factual way - a hub for gossip in their friend circle.

“So, care to correct the version I heard?” She prompted.

Lance looked at her, unsure. “You promise you won’t tell anyone?” 

“No,” she snorted, frank as ever.

Lance sighed and realized he was going to tell her anyways.

They wandered to a less crowded part of the street fair for privacy. Pidge bought them hot dogs and a bag of kettle corn on the way then listened intently, nodding along and digging in on her food while Lance detailed their trysts with Shiro, the embarrassing misunderstanding that had resulted, and Keith’s other transgressions. It was somehow easier retelling it for the third time. 

 

“Woof… Yeah, that’s one hell of an extrapolation of ‘hands only’ in a purely threesome context,” Pidge said after he was done. “However, if I assume a very Keith-type of logic and use a liberal interpretation of the transitive property...” She pushed her glasses up her nose and squinted like she was staring at a very complex math problem. “...I can almost follow his thought process.”

“Well, he didn’t exactly understand that it applied only in that context,” Lance said reflexively and was instantly annoyed with himself. Why the hell was he defending Keith? “Ugh, and on top of all that, he freaking kissed him! Which was blatantly against the rules! I can’t forgive that!”

“So, you broke up with him over a kiss?”

“No, I broke up with him because he’s an idiot and fucked around with Shiro behind my back!”

“But you just said he didn’t understand that part…”

“Right, but-”

“So you’re _staying_ broken up with him because of a kiss. A kiss that you were originally able to forgive, but given other infractions, namely fucking around behind your back, are no longer able to overlook.” 

“Yes. Wait, no... I-” Lance struggled to hold onto his train of thought. “Hey Einstein, stop trying to logic me! It’s more complicated than that! And how would you feel if Maria kissed someone else?”

“Pfff. Maria kisses everyone when she’s drunk!” Pidge laughed. “She’s kissed Shiro before and would probably try to kiss you too if your tongue wasn’t always wedged down Keith’s throat.”

“That doesn't bother you?” Lance looked at her, struggling to understand.

“Not really. No.” Pidge shrugged, totally unfazed.

“What if it was someone she'd had sexual tension with for the better part of a decade and then they fucked around on top of that too?” 

“Fair point.” Pidge frowned, but not as much as the mother-of-three passing by frowned at Lance for using foul language in front of her children.

“Ugh, what is this street fair even for?” Lance grew increasingly annoyed with the crowds.

“Gentrification or something. I dont know, I’ve never been here before.” Pidge took the last sizeable bite of her hot dog then set off in search of a trash can. “Look, it was an excuse to get you out of the house,” she said through a mouthful. “Plus, I really do need snake food.”

“Right... Bii-Boh-Bi.” Lance shuddered remembering her and Maria’s slithering, green son. As much as he didn’t like snakes, it somehow made him think of Red. He hadn’t seen his chubby pup in over a month. It maybe even made him think about Keith too, and how for a while the three of them had felt like a family.

And _that_ only served to further flatline Lance's mood.

Behind the initial wave of sadness came a crashing tidal wave of anger. He was furious at Keith for souring everything they had built together, for up-ending his world like that, for so carelessly leaving his heart in tatters. And suddenly, just like that, Lance was back in the vicious cycle again. The endless feedback loop of feeling mad and sad and as powerless as a wave under the moon’s pull to do anything about it.

Pidge watched the range of emotions cross his face while they walked.

“You miss him, don’t you?”

Lance rolled his eyes at the accusation and didn’t dignify it with a response.

“I don’t know, Lance. Just seeing you so down in the dumps like this… Are you sure you made the right decision? And that you didn’t maybe, I dunno… Overreact?”

Lance stopped in his tracks and turned to her.

“Overreact? Seriously!?” He looked at her, equal parts insulted, betrayed, and just plain disappointed.

“I mean, you haven’t exactly been in a hurry to find a new place. One might even say you’ve been avoiding it. It’s almost like you regret-”

“I haven't been avoiding it! It just takes time!” Lance cut her off with warning.

“Really? Are you sure that’s why? And not because you're secretly waiting for all this to blow over so you can move back in with him?”

Lance glared at her, keeping his lips sealed for fear that he might cuss her out if he opened them.

“Let’s just get Bii-Boh-Bi’s food and go,” he finally growled and stalked off in the direction of the pet shop.

“Hey, come on. I didn’t mean it like that.” She called after him but to no avail. “I just meant that maybe you guys shouldn’t… break up... forever.” She finished but Lance had stopped listening. 

Sighing, even Pidge had to admit she had not handled that delicately. 

 

\-----

 

In the main wing of a newly constructed hospital and in what would soon be an operating room, the first-in-command assembled her weapon from where she’d been cleaning it on a surgical tray. A rare occurrence, she was in good spirits. It appeared that the turnout for the ribbon cutting ceremony would exceed expectations. Billing it as a community event like the councilwoman had suggested had been a good idea after all. 

But she had other things on her mind.

A fresh clip of ammunition was slammed into the chamber of her gun.

It was then set squarely in its holster.

There hadn't been time with the preparations for the event, but once that was all said and done, she planned on paying a very special visit to a certain someone who had been a vexing thorn in her side for some time now. 

In one swift motion, she whipped her gun out of its holster and pointed it at the empty space in front of her, staring down the barrel at a vision of her target. 

“I’ve got you now, Garrison boy,” Acxa whispered, the grip on her weapon tightening.

“What are you doing?”

Acxa jumped, startled when Ezor’s voice interrupted her focus. The other general stood in the doorway with an iPad in one hand and a spool of bright pink cotton candy in the other.

“Nothing. Getting ready for the ceremony.” 

“In full uniform?”

“Crowd control.” Acxa offered a plausible explanation and casually put her gun back in its place at her hip.

“Oooo, we got ourselves a fancy cop over here,” Ezor teased and pulled a thread of the puffy, crystallized sugar off the spool. “You want some?” She offered it to the other woman as she indulged.

“I’m good.” Acxa turned up her nose in disgust.

“Anyway...” Ezor licked her fingers and continued, unperturbed. “I don’t know if we should, like, tell Lotor this but, um... I think Lance is here?” 

“What!?” Acxa spun to face her colleague. 

“Yeah, check it out!” She giggled and held up the tablet displaying six security camera feeds to her gawking first-in-command then clicked on one of the panels to zoom in on a shaggy brown-haired man. 

Acxa's jaw dropped further. It was just her luck, just her _stinking luck_ that he would show up when there was no room for error. They were already facing a slew of negative press. A hospital with no bills funded by an undisclosed, anonymous donor? The media had been having a field day!

Her mind raced with potential solutions to keep the Garrison boy out of their way. She needed Lotor’s undivided attention on selling their project to the crowd and, more importantly, to the dozens of journalists and reporters who had shown up to cover the event.

“Uh, Acxa? ACXA!”

“Huh?” She snapped out of her mental calculations.

“Do we tell him?” 

“No! Absolutely, definitely do NOT-” But then she thought about it for a second, and actually… An insidious, smug grin spread across her lips. There was no better motivation.

 

“Lotor, sir.” Acxa approached their leader where he was preparing in an administrative room near the lobby with Ezor on her heels. She pulled him by the elbows square to her and ignored his confusion at the forwardness. “This has always been an important day. A day that’s been many, _many_ years in the making. But now you’ve got cause to nail this speech for more reasons than one.”

Lotor nearly dropped his notes when Ezor showed him the camera footage.

“He’s here?” Zethrid cried, looking as surprised as her leader. Narti, too, clutched her head in shock.

“It would appear so.” Acxa was annoyed by the peanut gallery. “Lotor, hey! Remember that reminder that you wanted to send him?” She fought to keep him focused. “Well now’s your chance. _Make_ him remember. Make them _all_ see how incredible you are!”

Lotor’s brow furrowed as he looked at his notes. “Maybe I ought to rethink-”

“No! There’s no time.” Acxa cut him off. “What you’ve got there is perfect. You can do this, Lotor. Just go out there and _deliver._ He will be watching. _Everyone_ will be watching.”

Lotor’s Adam’s apple bobbed betraying the closest thing to nervousness she’d ever seen on him. If there was any actual apprehension though, he masked it well.

“Well, my generals. It appears I have a speech to give. My adoring crowd awaits.” A self-assured smile returned to his features and with a confident flip of his hair, he departed, ready to take the stage.

The four generals watched him go and Acxa almost managed to relax. Talk about killing two birds with one stone. She was more sure than ever that Lotor was going to nail his speech _and_ that the inevitable rejection from the Garrison boy was nigh. The timing couldn't be more perfect. She smugly set her hands on her hips, thinking that luck just might be on her side after all.

“Wait, he just went inside somewhere.” Ezor, still watching the iPad, said just after Lotor left. “It looks like, uh… a pet store?” She squinted at the screen to be sure.

“I’m on it.” Acxa charged towards the exit. “Zethrid, Narti stall!” She ordered on her way out the door.

“Wait, where are you going?” Ezor called from the doorway as her first-in-command sprinted down the hall.

“To make sure he’s watching!”

 

\-----

 

Pidge wandered through the pet store and spotted Lance sulking by a cage of guinea pigs, poking his finger through the bars and making friends with the critters inside it. She came up behind him and waited while he pretended not to notice she was there. Pidge gave him time. 

A store employee she’d spoken to earlier returned carrying a cage of a dozen or so mice. He set it down on a table and left it open for them.

“Hey. Come help me pick out a few.” Pidge called to Lance and held up a small cardboard box to deposit mice in.

Lance reluctantly wandered over and stood with his hands in his pockets.

“So, maybe overreacted wasn't the right word.” Pidge carefully continued their conversation from before while she scooped up a mouse and tucked it away in the box.

Lance sighed audibly, making his annoyance known.

“Look, call me crazy, Lance, but I get the impression that you don't actually want to be broken up with him.”

“Of course I don’t want to be broken up with him!” Lance snapped more viciously than he meant to. “I don’t want _any_ of this! But-” His voice softened. “I also don't know how to be with him right now either.” Grief-stricken, he picked up a mouse and let it run across his fingers, turning his hand over to give it more space to roam. “I keep hoping that one day I'm going to wake up and that none of this will matter. And that I can go home again.” He caught the mouse with his other hand before it fell off the side of his palm. Lowering it to a safe distance, he let it drop back into the cage where it quickly scurried away. “But I just don't see how that’s gonna happen.”

Pidge nodded. “And you’re sleeping on Hunk’s couch in the meantime. In case it does.”

“Did he put you up to this?” Lance asked, worried he’d overstayed his welcome.

“We’re worried about you, Lance!” 

Lance responded with a dramatic eye roll, tired of them treating him like a child.

“I’m fine!” He insisted.

“Clearly. You were the _picture_ of mental health on that couch this morning.”

Lance pouted, not doing himself any favors if he wanted to be left alone to take care of himself.

“Here. Critter therapy.” Pidge thrust another squirming rodent in his direction.

“Aw, they’re actually kinda cute.” Lance set the mouse in the box next to the skinny one Pidge had picked out then put his hand in the cage and smiled watching the mice mill around it. Some of the more inquisitive ones stood on their feet and sniffed at the alien intruder. “I dunno why but this chubby one kinda reminds me of Hunk.” He chuckled and let a very round mouse climb into his palm.

“Next you're gonna say the one all by itself in the corner reminds you of Keith,” Pidge joked.

Lance’s shoulders dropped.

“Oh, Lance… Really?” Pidge gave him a rare moment of unadulterated, snark-free sympathy.

“I can’t help it, Pidge. Literally _everything_ reminds me of him.”

Pidge’s expression waxed between pity and concern.

“Can I just say what everyone is thinking?” She softened her tone and kept it free of snark.

“When does your smarty-pants ass ever not?”

“You’re not going to like it…” She warned him.

“Out with it, squirt.”

She narrowed her eyes. Only Matt had the privilege of calling her that.

“You and Keith… You guys are having a fight. Granted, a pretty bad one. And maybe you guys do need some time apart, but…” She looked at him intently though he wasn’t looking back. “You shouldn’t have broken up over this.” 

Lance immediately hit her with a side-eye. She was right, he didn’t like it.

“He _loves_ you, Lance!” She pushed on. “And if a surly rodent somehow reminds you of him, then I’ve got news for you, you love him too!”

Lance pressed his lips into a thin line but stayed silent.

“Yeah, it’s a messed up situation and I’m not saying he’s blameless. But I know you, Lance. And you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your life if you lose him over this!”

Lance drew a long and uncomfortable breath, not wanting to admit that there was a fraction of a sliver of a chance that she might - MIGHT - be right.

“Look, be mad for awhile if that’s what you gotta do, but don’t be an idiot here.”

For a moment, she almost had him hopeful, but then Lance remembered why it was decidedly over.

It was all…

It was all at the bottom of the ocean.

“Pidge…” Lance sighed deeply. “I had this ring, okay? And I was gonna-” He looked at her meaningfully. 

She nodded like she already knew. 

“And well… I don’t have it anymore. I got rid of it.”

“So?” She snorted, ruining his dramatic delivery.

“What do you mean, so? It’s over, Pidge!”

“Not if you get it back.”

“I can’t get it back! It’s _gone._ ”

“Pfff. Then get another ring, Lance!” She practically laughed. He was being ridiculous.

“No, it was supposed to be _that_ ring.” Had Lance’s hands not been holding a fat mouse, he’d have clenched them into fists. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be…” Different. _Everything_ was supposed to be different. “He wasn’t supposed to… with Shiro.” Lance started getting sad again.

Pidge frowned seeing her friend struggle.

“Do you really think Keith would rather be with Shiro?” She asked not sounding totally sure herself.

Lance thought about it for a long moment while the rotund mouse he’d grown fond of curled into a ball and fell asleep between his palms. “No.” He finally said, being begrudgingly honest with himself. “He just did something really, _really_ stupid.” Without disturbing his new, snoozing friend, Lance leaned his elbows on the edge of the cage and hung his head between them.

“But it’s what you’ve always been scared of, right?”

“Yeah,” Lance admitted. “Wait, how did you know-”

“Well then, in a way, the worst thing happened, right?” Pidge kept going. “And he _still_ didn’t leave you. He _still_ wanted to be with _YOU._ ”

Lance was unexpectedly caught off guard by her words. He hadn’t thought of it that way.

“And you still love him.”

 _"Yes!"_ Lance cried emphatically, though it hadn’t been a question. “With all my heart! And I just don’t know how he could have-”

“I get it. You’re hurting.” She gently patted his back. “But don’t give up, okay? You guys are gonna figure this out.”

The tension in Lance’s shoulders finally let up. He hadn’t realized how badly he’d needed that encouragement. He even managed a small smile, feeling genuinely better for the first time in weeks.

“Heh. When did you get so smart about relationship stuff?” He nudged his friend with his elbow.

“If you are only just now figuring out how smart I am then you’re as dumb as people give you credit for.”

“Aw, Thanks, Pid- Hey!”

“Here. Have your boy.” Chuckling, Pidge nabbed the lone mouse in the corner by its tail and traded Lance the fatter mouse for it. Gathering its footing in the middle of his palm and looking ready to fight, the feisty creature’s dark eyes stared back at Lance and it had his heart melting. It really did remind him of Keith. 

For the first time, Lance felt stupid for throwing the ring.

“You really think he still loves me?” He gently stroked the mouse’s head then looked to his friend for reassurance.

“I did not watch that boy pine over you for six goddamn years just to have it all end like this.” She deadpanned. “He still looks at you with those big, dumb eyes.”

“Really?” Lance almost smiled.

“Need I show you [this](https://enjayas.tumblr.com/image/164077177909) again?” She pushed her phone in Lance’s face. An old picture of Keith in low club-lighting met his eyes. 

Lance recognized the photo immediately. It had been taken during the peak of their mutual pining, literally the night they’d gotten together. Keith’s dark eyes appeared almost purple in that lighting and were wistfully gazing at something out of shot. Lance didn’t need to be reminded that it had been him.

“God, why do you still have that on your phone?” He forced his eyes away then let them slowly creep back to her screen.

“In case I ever need to stop you from doing something incredibly stupid! Look at this face and tell me you don’t want to work this out with him.” She foisted her phone closer.

One corner of Lance’s mouth lifted and his hand curled around the mouse that reminded him of the boy in the photo.

“I dunno, Pidge… I’m still pretty mad at him.” But one thing Lance did notice was that he was _less_ mad at Keith. Maybe after a little more time, talking wasn’t outside the realm of possibilities.

 _Stupid Keith…_ Lance thought to himself and prodded the mouse in the side. 

“Ow!” He screamed as the creature sunk its teeth into his finger. He shook the angry rodent dangling from his finger into the box with the others. “He bit me! What a punk!” Lance cried scornfully, holding his finger.

“Well, I can feed Keith to Bii-Boh-Bi first if you want.” Pidge offered with an evil grin.

“Hah. Thanks, but I don’t think Keith’s gonna be scared of your tiny, little-” 

“No, Keith-mouse,” she pointed at the critter in the box.

“WHAT?!” Lance shrieked, horrified. He snatched the box of mice from the table, holding it protectively to his chest and away from Pidge. “YOU’RE FEEDING THEM TO BII-BOH-BI??” 

 

And that was how Lance ended up walking out of the pet store carrying a ten gallon-sized tank filled with supplies to turn it into a terrarium and four newly-adopted mouse babies.

“Seriously, what the hell did you think snakes ate?”

“I don’t know… Snake pellets?”

Pidge let out an exasperated groan. 

“You do realize I’m just gonna have to buy other feeder mice, right?” She pointed out, annoyed that she was going to have to make another trip to a pet store - one _without_ Lance in tow.

“I know, just… Not these ones.” Lance hugged the glass tank in his arms.

 

They weren’t five paces out of the pet store before they were stopped by a police officer who had been waiting for them.

“You can’t go through here. All foot traffic is currently closed.” She informed them while also blocking their path with her body. She’d cordoned off the entire area. They weren’t leaving. “You’re stuck until after the announcement.”

“Announcement?” Pidge and Lance looked in the direction the officer pointed and saw that a stage had been set up at the far end of the street. A woman in a red suit was at the microphone and a group of suited, rather official looking business men were clustered off to the side. The spectacle also happened to be atop the steps in front of a massive, newly-constructed building near where they’d parked. By the brigade of ambulances aesthetically stationed out front, it looked to be a hospital.

“Ezor, now!” Acxa voiced into her radio. _Come on, Lotor..._ She breathed to herself. 

 

“Ah, I’m getting word that we’re finally ready to get started.” The city councilwoman at center-stage excitedly told the restless crowd. “Thank you all for your patience! You know, when this project first crossed my desk, I thought it was too good to be true.” The woman behind the microphone smiled broadly and angled herself towards the press. “And today, I am happy to tell you all how very wrong I was. As you can see-” She gestured at the building behind her. “It is very real.” 

A few lukewarm chuckles drifted from the sizeable crowd that had gathered at the base of the steps and spilled down the street.

Lance was already bored. He zoned out as the politician continued to talk. She wasn’t particularly interesting and being outside in the crowds again had brought back the pervasive nervousness that had been plaguing him before. His right foot wiggled anxiously in his shoe and he white-knuckled the edges of the tank in his arms. There was something in the air he just couldn’t put his finger on.

Pidge next to him was already thoroughly engrossed in a game on her phone. Lance shifted some of the weight of the terrarium onto his hip and moved to copy her. Just as he managed to awkwardly fish his phone out of his pocket, a flash of white off the side of the stage caught his eye. Trained to react to that color, Lance’s sharp eyes snapped to stage-left and fixed on the back of a head sporting flowing, ghostly white hair that wafted gently in the autumn breeze.

The breath stalled in his throat momentarily, but he didn’t panic.

 _No… It couldn’t be..._

_Silver...?_

The owner of that mane turned and Lance got a look at the profile it was attached to. 

He didn’t need to squint to be sure.

“Whoa, he’s… here?” He accidentally said out loud.

“Who is?” Pidge asked, not looking up from her game.

“Nobody. Nevermind.” Lance brushed it off and kept watching him. 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the councilwoman continued. “It is my pleasure to introduce you all to a man whose kindness and generosity know no bounds. The patron and dare I say genius behind this, the [K.U.R.O.N.] project, who has done more for this town, and this district especially, than I as a councilwoman could ever hope to accomplish...”

_This district…_

Something in Lance’s mind was close to clicking. His eyes darted around the scene before him. The buildings behind the street fair, the structure of the block, the shape of the roads... There was something oddly familiar about all of it. 

His eyes fell on something that seemed somehow out of place. The rundown, twisted metal overhang of an old, rusted-out bus stop. An eyesore amidst the cleaned up, freshly painted storefronts and power washed sidewalks around it. Dark and sinister, it conjured up visions in Lance’s mind of an unsavory place he used to go.

“Pidge…” Lance tried to not let his shaking voice betray him. “Where are we right now?”

“You're at a street fair, Lance.”

“No, like what part of town are we in?” He’d been too checked out on the car ride over to pay attention, but he had an awful feeling…

“Oh. The Komar district.” She answered as though it were nothing. “Why?”

“N-No reason.” Lance was suddenly sweating. 

Street fair or not, he _knew_ there’d been something unsettling about that place. He pulled out his phone to pinpoint their exact location and his heart skipped a beat seeing that they were, in fact, in the western end of downtown. He zoomed in further and the little blue dot on his map put them nearest the intersection of… 

...33rd and Komar Way. 

A shiver went down Lance’s spine. 

They were a mere 500 feet from where Empire G had once been. Which meant… His eyes widened as they tracked down the road to the massive structure behind the stage. Somewhere in the depths of that building... 

“Yeah, I hear it used to be a really rough part of town,” Pidge remarked without looking up or slowing her thumbs that were racking up points flying across her screen. “But I dunno, seems pretty nice to me.”

“Maybe we should go,” Lance suggested, mouth dry, and slowly started backing away from whatever was taking place on stage. He saw the police officer in his peripheries stiffen and remembered that they couldn't leave.

Lance gulped realizing the predicament he was in. They’d unwittingly wandered right back into that man’s territory, and now, it seemed they were stuck there.

His first instinct was to protect Pidge, not to blame her. She hadn’t known any better when she’d brought them there. But protect her from what, exactly? Eating too much sugar at a carnival? From the shrieking kids playing with bubbles next to a small jungle gym? Keep her from getting pounced on by an overly friendly dog? Like Pidge had said, this place seemed… nice.

“And now, the reason we are all here.” The councilwoman on the stage continued to talk. “The man who has made this hospital - this gift to our community - a reality… Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Mister LSD!”

Lance’s pupils dilated as the tall man with fantastical, blinding white hair strode in all his fashionable glory across the stage towards the podium. More shocking though was the eruption of applause from the crowd. They liked him. They _really_ liked him.

 _...LSD?_ Lance repeated under his breath, and against his better interests, allowed himself to be mildly intrigued.

He carefully set the soon-to-be mouse habitat he was holding down and kept his eyes glued to the man taking center-stage like he'd been elected mayor or something. 

Lance racked his brain. He vaguely remembered some project the man had been going on about when they crossed paths at the club. Was this... it? And what did the other initials stand for?

Pidge remained absorbed in her phone at his side, but Lance couldn’t look away. 

Unbeknownst to him, a pair of eyes were fixed on him too. Acxa studied the Garrison boy intently, watching his every reaction to the man on stage, reading for any signs that he might return her leader’s feelings. But more importantly, she wasn’t letting him out of her sight. Regardless of his response - her right hand firmly gripped her weapon - he wasn’t getting away this time.

“Thank you, Councilwoman Grace.” A familiar velvety, smooth voice and svelte British accent flowed from the speakers and right into the crowd's - and Lance's - ear canals. Mister LSD bowed politely while he shook the councilwoman’s hand, pausing momentarily for a flurry of camera flashes, then turned to address the crowd.

“Good afternoon and my apologies to have kept you all waiting. But, I promise I’m worth it.” He flirted with the his audience, using his charm to curry their favor. “It is no secret that I’ve intentionally kept my identity somewhat private until recently, and I am delighted to finally reveal myself to you all today.” 

With a flourish of his arms, he presented himself and paused for another photo op. Councilwoman Grace stepped sideways to make sure she was in the back of the photos.

“There are many descriptors I’ve accumulated during the tenure of this project. Many of them put forth by the media weren’t kind at first...” He shared a humble laugh with the councilwoman. “But as this project began to take shape, they became a lot more... favorable.” He flipped his hand lightly to match his voice.

“Philanthropist... Benefactor... The man with the purse-strings.” He got a chuckle from the crowd for that one. “But there is one identifier that even the best investigative journalists failed to unearth.” His brow hardened with a judgmental smugness, like he’d bested them. “It remains somewhat controversial in nature but is arguably the qualifier that most accurately describes my personage and yet also couldn’t be further from the truth.”

“Wait, what is he doing…” Zethrid said nervously from the green room where she was following on a screen. Narti clutched the chair behind her. 

Acxa stiffened too. He was going off-script.

_Lotor, don’t..._

“Get ready for this one in the press tent,” he teased the hoard of reporters jockeying for position. 

“You see,” he continued. “I am…” 

He paused for dramatic effect, savoring the anticipation he had cultivated, then leaned close to the microphone.

“ _...GALRA._ ”

A hushed gasp echoed through the crowd. Councilwoman Grace did a double take then quickly moved to dissociate herself from him while the cameras began to flash incessantly.

“He’s leading with being Galra!?” Zethrid cried into her radio, clutching at the dark ombre of her hair in distress. “I thought we weren’t going to reveal that part!”

Narti was busy furiously typing into her phone.

“Should we stop him? Acxa, what do we do?” Ezor frantically spoke into her radio from off the side of the stage.

The first-in-command was watching in horror. He was in danger of outing them all. 

“I’m killing his mic!” Zethrid cried in a panic.

“Don’t!” Acxa barked as loudly as she dared into her radio. “Let him continue. Lotor knows what he’s doing!” She chose to trust him. She _had_ to trust him. What other choice did they have?

 

The man at the podium watched chaos and confusion propagate through the crowd with a self-satisfied smirk twisting his lips. Formerly-loved but now the subject of the crowd’s ire, he held up his hands and waited for the murmurs to subside.

“You heard it here and from the horse's mouth... I am, by blood first but also by choice, not only a member of the Galra gang, but the son of its leader and successor to the self-declared Empire that has ruled these streets with an iron fist for decades.”

More murmurs. Angrier murmurs. Faster photo flashes. An unmic'ed but audible denial from Councilwoman Grance that she knew anything about this.

But the Galra heir calmly stood his ground. It was not his first time controlling the turn of a crowd.

“And as I stand before you today and proudly declare myself to be such, I ask you to remember the lives that have been lost at the hands of the Galra, the heinous acts they have committed, many of them in this very neighborhood.”

The somberness and air of doom and gloom that overtook the crowd was palpable. Pleasingly and to his calculations, it began to give way to anger. Jeers and even a few boos started to be thrown his way.

“Recall the damage that has been wrought on this community by that gang and know that _I fully condemn them._ ” His words echoed as he leaned closer to the microphone, forcing a hushed silence to fall over the incited masses.

“Yes, I am the son of a notorious Galra leader, but a _wayward_ son.” He began to appeal to his audience. “Standing before you today, I renounce my father’s authority! I renounce his leadership, reject his gutless tactics, and repudiate all who follow him!" The passion building in his voice osmosed its way into the masses before him, and he leaned into that momentum hard. "It is time for the Galra as we know it to END!"

He waited, giving the confused but hesitantly optimistic whispers time to pass through the crowd.

“Under my command, a reformed faction of the Galra have split off, forming new ranks that have sworn to do right by this community. To help it rise from the ashes stronger than before. And this-” he gestured grandly at the building behind him. “Is our restitution for the harm we have caused. For the mistakes we have made. And for the shame and dishonor my father, the tenable-at-best Emperor of the Galra, has brought to that name!”

The crowd was silent, captivated by his every word. Somewhere in the back Lance was listening attentively too.

Mister LSD took a moment to reset, taking the passion in his delivery down a notch.

“Blood money, embezzlements, revenue from other unspeakable crimes - all a regrettable part of my inheritance - have been funneled into this project in the hopes that dirty money can be washed clean. That it can be converted into good. That we can harness it to save countless lives in the future.”

His expression shifted to one of penance and his voice softened to go with it.

“I remind you that none who are treated here will ever owe a dime. Endowments are already in place to ensure that - whatever may become of me - the financial stability of this institution _will not waver_ for many generations to come.” 

By this point in his speech, the spectacle was being broadcast on live TV.

 

Keith was listing out algebraic formulas from memory while bussing tables in the middle of his shift at the diner.

“Negative b plus or minus the square root of b squared minus 4ac, all over 2ac.” Oh yeah, he had this tutoring gig in the bag.

 _“...going live now to roving reporter Amy May with breaking news.”_

The TV echoed behind him.

“Point slope form. Y minus y sub one equals-”

_“Amy May, VLD 6 news, live at the scene where the anonymous benefactor for the [K.U.R.O.N.] project has just revealed himself to be a member of the Galra. Taking you live now to the rest of his speech.”_

“The Galra?” Keith said under his breath and turned his attention to the television.

A pale, long haired man in front of a microphone appeared on the screen.

_“To further show our commitment, we are joining forces with Galaxy Garrison to foster a state-of-the-art research facility dedicated to treating and curing...”_

“The Galra’s working with the Garrison?!” He said and wondered if Shiro was seeing this.

Shiro was watching too. At home with Allura.

_“...the most abhorrent of childhood diseases. In this symbolic undertaking, it is our hope that...”_

“Shiro, are you alright?” Allura gently touched his shoulder, fully aware of his history with the Galra.

“I’m fine,” he assured her. “It’s Lance that I’m worried about.”

“Lance?” Allura looked at him confused. “Why on earth would you be worried about Lance?” 

He didn’t say another word and, with a troubled expression, kept watching, praying that Lance would somehow miss this news story.

 

But Lance was already seeing it. Live and in-person, he had a front-row seat to the drama that was unfolding.

“The Galra working side-by-side the marvelous men and women of the Garrison for the betterment of mankind is a truly momentous occasion, and the heights of our shared successes in the far-reaching future will truly know no bounds. But for now, let us focus on the present...”

Mister LSD reigned in his excitement and paused again, preparing to enter the closing statements and most important part of his speech.

“Today, with the opening of this hospital, I give you health. I give you security. I give you peace of mind and the assurance of prosperity for many years to come.” Some stray cheers and excited, preemptive clapping began to build. “And in doing so, I humbly ask that you accept my gesture of good faith and that we be judged not by the mistakes of our past…” 

Lance swore the man’s head swiveled to him. 

“But by our _actions_ in the present and by our _intent_ for the future.”

A deep but steady inhale had Lance's chest swelling.

“In a world that is often painted in shades of grey… May we be generous and charitable with our second chances.” A somberness gripped the man’s voice and he bowed his head as though in prayer. “And may we in turn be pleasantly surprised by those on whom we bestow them.” 

His head remained bowed in an apropos moment of silence.

“Second chances, huh?” Lance snorted under his breath, though the words had struck a chord in him.

“Philanthropist... Benefactor... And yes, a new breed of Galra.”

Mister LSD stepped back from the podium. The councilwoman was at his side again and applauding loudly as he lifted a giant pair of shining, metallic scissors. He positioned the blades on either side of a thick, lilac ribbon draped across the hospital's main entrance, a flock of medical professionals standing at-the-ready behind it.

“I hereby declare Sincline General open and accepting new patients! Today marks the dawning of new era, one in which _GALRA_ is synonymous with _GOOD!_ ”

With that and to a rousing applause from the audience, he sliced the ribbon in two. 

There was a bang from confetti cannons being fired over the crowd followed by a loud rattling as banners unfurled from the roof of the hospital. On them, a symbol easily recognizable as the triple-daggered Galra logo but with rounder edges and fewer menacing points. Even the lavender shade of purple embossing the grayscale logo was softer on the eyes.

Lance blinked, rather dumbfounded by what he was witnessing as the crowd went wild and confetti rained down around him.

Not far from where he stood, Acxa was joining in the celebration. Beside herself with joy because they were _applauding._ And cheering. Yes, _cheering!_ She couldn't believe it. He'd done it... Lotor had done it! Galra and all, he'd won them over. She was so ecstatic and damn near dizzy with relief that she nearly forgot the other task at hand. 

She glanced around in a panic having lost sight of the Garrison boy as the crowd began to disperse. Luckily though, he hadn’t moved and still stood next to his short friend with the undercut. She watched him shake his head as if bewildered then bend to retrieve what looked to be a tank of some kind at his feet.

“You about ready to head home, shortstack?” He yawned boredly to the small one.

Acxa gaped as the pair followed the procession of the slowly dissipating crowd.

The Garrison boy. He was… 

He was completely unfazed.

 _Oh, Lotor…_ She’d have felt sorry for him were she not busily trying to think of a way to prevent such a crushing blow from impeding their momentum.

“Lotor, that was amazing!”

“Zarkon’s gonna shit his pants when he sees this! Oh, and Narti says you killed it!”

Excited chatter started coming in through her radio.

“Excellent speech, Sir.” Acxa chimed in.

“Did he hear it?” Lotor asked her on a private channel.

“...yes.” She answered, technically truthfully.

“All of it?”

“The whole thing.”

“Wonderful.” She heard his happy huff of air come through the radio. “I have to deal with the media dog and pony show, but this has been just the most optimal outcome! Tonight we shall celebrate like kings!” 

“Yes, Sir.”

She didn’t have the heart to reply to him further. He hadn’t sounded so cheery in a long time. 

Acxa contemplated what to do. Lotor was never going to believe the rejection unless he heard it from his precious Garrison boy himself and now more than ever they couldn’t afford to lose any more time to distractions. Zarkon was not going to take the stunt Lotor had just pulled lying down.

Acxa picked out the back of a navy blue jacket and a swath of brown hair in the crowd then narrowed her eyes, seething for the trouble he’d caused her and maybe just a bit for the hurt he’d inflicted upon her leader.

Ready to make her move, Acxa's hand touched down on her gun as she tailed after the boy in blue and his short friend. 

It was time for the Garrison boy saga to end.

 

 

She followed them to the parking garage, determined to bring him to Lotor herself and by any means necessary. She waited under cover a few cars away while her target and the accessory put several bags and the fish tank in the trunk.

Acxa struggled to figure out the optimal approach. The problem was, he wasn’t alone. It was too risky to take out his friend; She needed Ezor or Zethrid’s assistance for that. And Acxa was acting alone. 

Just in case, she fixed a non-police-sanctioned silencer to the end of her Glock. If she had to fire, at least she could minimize the attention it would attract.

The accessory went to pay for parking and Acxa saw her opportunity.

“Narti, don’t ask questions, but I need you to disable the parking kiosks in Garage C. Hurry!”

Some pips came through her radio soon after. The Morse code abbreviation for ‘done’.

Acxa smirked. His friend would be gone a while.

The Garrison boy was alone.

Silently, and brandishing her weapon in preparation, Acxa approached from the shadows. She’d planned on paying him a visit soon enough anyways. What fortune it was that he just so happened to show up for her. What was that thing Lotor used to say, about it feeling like fate?

She came around behind the man that had been the source of her troubles and stymied their efforts more times than she could count and smiled deliciously, almost able to taste her second victory of the day. 

Not fifteen feet away from him and using a pillar in the garage for coverage, she paused, leaning her back against the cold concrete for final preparations.

“This ends now,” she whispered, stilling her breath and steadying her hand. Then in a swift, trained motion she stepped out from behind the pillar that had concealed her and pointed her weapon at her target without hesitation. 

“Mr. McCl-” Her voice rose to a yelp and a prickle ran down her spine. She quickly ducked back behind the pillar, her hands suddenly shaking and legs equally unsteady.

“Huh? Pidge?” Lance looked over his shoulder to where he’d heard the voice come from. “Spooky…” He narrowed his eyes at the still and unoccupied garage. “Isn’t that spooky Keith-mouse. Some spooky-wooky echoes in this garage.” He scratched the nose of the critter he’d freed from the box then kissed its head.

Breath shaking, Acxa peeked out from behind the pillar and cringed at the display. Increasingly unsteady on her feet, she fought against the rebellion her body was putting forth, willing herself to go after him. To go and get what it was that Lotor wanted and finally put an end to this nonsense. But try as she might she failed to make her legs move. Her wide eyes remained fixed on the white, squirming lump in the Garrison boy’s hand.

Acxa was deathly afraid of mice.

And there was more of them. A second one poked its head out from the small box sitting on top of the car and it had Acxa crumpling in defeat. She slumped to the ground having lost all feeling in her limbs. 

The short one came back soon enough complaining that she hadn’t managed to pay for parking and that she guessed they were getting it for free. Powerless in the face of fear, Acxa watched them get in the car. She lifted her shaky weapon to the vehicle but couldn’t manage a straight shot. The green Subaru backed out and its occupants and the filthy vermin they had in tow drove away completely none-the-wiser.

Furious, the thwarted general righted herself on shaky legs then kicked the bumper of an unassuming car when they were out of sight. With excess anger to spare, she unloaded three rounds from her pistol into the unfortunate vehicles front tire, cursing the fact that he’d escaped her yet again. 

Next time though, she vowed, gritting her teeth into a vicious snarl and glaring at the hissing tire as it deflated. 

Next time they wouldn’t be so lucky.

 

 

Back at Hunk’s place later that night, Lance sat on the couch in a much cleaner, more habitable living room and was in much better spirits than he’d been in for quite some time. Everyone else had already gone to bed, and he had the TV on while one-handedly scrolling through social media. His other hand was busy letting his new favorite rodent-friend crawl over his fingers. 

Shay hadn’t been pleased at first that he’d brought home more - and potentially smelly - roommates, but after seeing how cute they were and squealing with joy that one was named after her husband-to-be, she’d been won over. 

Lance and Pidge had named the rest of them on the drive home. Since the big one was Hunk-mouse, that meant the small one had to be Pidge-mouse. And though Lance had tried to name the skinny one after Allura, Pidge had insisted he was more of a Lance-mouse. After all, she had reasoned with a cheeky grin, they had a Keith-mouse and he would be lonely without a Lance to keep him company. Though he’d tried to be aloof about it, Lance had happily accepted her logic. 

Shiro didn’t get a mouse named after him.

_“Breaking news from earlier today.”_

A news report blared from the TV as the programming changed with the turn of the hour.

_“More controversy surrounding the anonymous donor LSD, who today flippantly revealed himself to be a gang leader with long-running ties to the Galra.”_

The camera cut to a shot of a tall, long-haired man stepping off the stage to a forest of microphones being thrust in his direction. In a rare moment of appearing flustered, he craned his neck over the cameras and attempted to push past the reporters. 

“I’m sorry, but there’s someone I’m trying to see-” He grew visibly frustrated when they wouldn’t let him through.

The camera cut to an aerial shot of the crowds.

_“Requests for an interview were denied, but he delivered quite the impassioned speech on the steps of-”_

Lance turn off the TV, having heard enough the first time around. 

He put Keith-mouse back in the cage with the others, pet them all good night, then plonked himself back down on the couch. He let out a heavy sigh and tiredly rubbed his eyes. 

A lot had happened that day. Being back in the Komar district like that, and seeing how much it had changed since the Empire G days… It was almost too much to comprehend. But he was glad it was a better place than the Komar district he’d known.

And crossing paths again with the man Lance knew as Silver… Well, he didn’t really know what to make of that or his newly assumed identity _Mister LSD_. That part had been… weird and… unexpected.

Not wanting to revisit old wounds, Lance opened his laptop only to find himself looking at the same tab he’d had open that morning. 

Plane tickets and a travel itinerary stared him in the face again, a decision still looming. 

Though he was in a far better place to be facing such matters, his head remained unsettled, conflicted, at odds with his heart. Everything Pidge had said earlier that day ran chaotically, noisily through his mind. 

And strangely... 

So did visions of Silver. 

He had been… different. More like the Silver Lance remembered. And there was a part of his speech that Lance had really taken to heart.

That thing he’d said about second chances...

It had him thinking.

It had him thinking a lot...

 

...about Keith.

Maybe now that it was indisputably clear where the lines were with Shiro - and anyone else for that matter, maybe things would be different. Maybe Keith _did_ deserve a second chance. Maybe even Shiro... deserved a second chance?

Nope. Definitely not. Fuck Shiro. Lance backpedaled fast, feeling himself getting angrier by the second, and nearly revoked the opportunity from Keith too.

He brought his eyes back to the tickets on his screen and sighed somewhat reluctantly, supposing he ought to at least _try_ talking to Keith before doing anything rash. He didn’t know if it would necessarily lead to a second chance, but Lance was at least open to entertaining the idea of maybe giving him a shot at one.

After days of agonizing, Lance came to a decision. He closed the tab with the itinerary and shut his laptop for the night.

In the interest of keeping second chances on the table, he decided _not_ to cancel Keith’s ticket.

Now it was up to Keith to pleasantly surprise him.

  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't mind me while I just casually REBRAND LOTOR AND THE ENTIRE GALRA EMPIRE. >_>
> 
> Seriously though... like holy heck and a half, I am _relieved_ that part is done! I put off writing that speech for so long. I ain't no politician!
> 
> A few things to note:  
> \- Acxa is dangerous. (Sorry, but I wanted the space mice to save the day at least once. :P)
> 
> \- Lance is not going back to Lotor... 
> 
> ...as long as he has Keith.
> 
> \- Whatever is going on with Lotor is **neither related to nor inspired by** the Altean colony in VLD canon. I came up with this plot over a year ago, long before any of that had aired. I'm not saying he's not up to something - Maybe he is, maybe he isn't; You'll find out more later - but it has NOTHING to do with canon.
> 
> \- I resurrected [this gem](https://enjayas.tumblr.com/post/164077177909/zuzarti-a-quick-fanart-for-badsukis-klance-fic) from PDR by Zuzuarti. Sorry not sorry! <3
> 
> \- No spoilers, per se, and I'm almost prefer you didn't look, but **the rest of the tags** can be found [ here](https://enjayas.tumblr.com/post/177996308104/the-rest-of-the-tags-for-p-r-after-you-know-the). DON'T SCROLL DOWN TOO FAST. Tumblr's 'under the cut' feature doesn't work for direct links. 
> 
>  
> 
> As always, comments, feedback, your rambling thoughts are appreciated!
> 
> Okay, see you next update!
> 
>  
> 
> Next Chapter: **A Reunion**


	8. A Reunion: Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group gathers for Hunk and Shay’s engagement party/Balmaran family reunion and a lot of things that needed to be said finally get said.
> 
> The fun times include: Several close calls. Self-destructive behavior. A piece of trash. Stern words. An inconvenient meeting. Capitalized opportunities. A sincere apology. A dangling second chance. And most importantly… friends having each others backs.
> 
> In this behemoth of two-chapter arc:  
> \- Somebody acts out  
> \- Somebody gets the cold shoulder  
> \- Somebody hooks up
> 
> (In this two-parter, we earn that explicit rating!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you read! I'm running a poll on Twitter for who you think hooks up. Please [~vote~](https://twitter.com/enjayas_writes/status/1046261241683955712) (Responsibly!)
> 
> 'Ready Yet' by Sasha Sloan - Totally nails Lance's emotional state at this point in the story. TY Tumblr anon who sent it to me!
> 
> Also, the engagement part is not at Lotor's hotel. There's plenty of other things to be anxious about in this chapter. Don't waste it on that.
> 
> And finally, I know there were some frustrations at parts of Pidge's conversation with Lance last chapter. I just want to remind everyone that the characters are all doing their best to cope with this situation and that they're not going to do it perfectly. Events also aren't going to unfold in the 'right' order. Keith's talking-to/come-to-Jesus moment is coming, so just be patient with the plot for now. There's a lot of things that need to happen, and we'll get there, but it wouldn't be a very interesting story if this mess got untangled in the simplest way possible.
> 
> Okay, please enjoy the update! ^__^

  


Lotor and his generals gathered for a briefing. The grand opening of Sincline General had been an overwhelming success. The media had been buzzing ever since, and though it hadn’t all been positive press, the awareness even the negative side of it had generated was staggering. They’d been inundated with new patient requests and resumes of medical professionals seeking employment. 

But that wasn’t what they were there to discuss. 

The announcement of his hospital had been as much a power grab in an organized crime turf war as it had been a community endeavor.

“Intel suggests Zarkon intends to retaliate.”

In front of a projector, Acxa led the meeting. 

“We anticipate he will hit our storage depots, where he thinks it will hurt our supply chain the most.”

She pulled up a map highlighting the most viable targets.

“Clear everything out of the warehouses that are potential targets,” Lotor instructed. “Let him strike but aim to minimize our losses.”

The other generals nodded in agreement.

Narti listened intently to the plan then typed busily into her phone. Ezor eyed her suspiciously. She’d been attached to that thing ever since the grand opening event.

“Who are you talking to? Got a boyfriend we don’t know about or something?”

Narti stopped and waved her hands momentarily flustered. She typed a message in a different app.

 _Documentation._ It read.

Immediately bored, Ezor left her alone after that.

“And what of the other project.” Lotor changed subjects.

Acxa's eye twitched at it being called a project. “You mean the Garrison boy?” She tried to force the correction.

“Yes.”

Acxa hesitated. 

“There’s… no change on that front.” She delivered the news to her disappointed leader. “But, patience, right?” She said, more to prevent him from losing focus than to actually encourage him.

“Of course, patience...”

“Now, on to the recovery plan,” Acxa continued. “Once Zarkon strikes, we aim to be back up and running in...” 

Lotor reset himself in his chair and tried to pay attention and maybe even care a little about the continued survival of his empire.

 

 

It was the day of Hunk and Shay’s engagement party-turned-Balmeran family reunion. A large event space had been rented out in a swanky hotel for the occasion and top dollar had been thrown down for a prime Saturday evening slot so close to the holidays too.

Suit bag in hand and ready to catch a bus, Keith was headed straight there from his third day at his new tutoring gig. It was going… okay. He didn’t have a lot of students yet, but it was already more than apparent that, while he might understand how to do math, communicating the ins and outs of it to lost and overwhelmed high school kids wasn’t his strong point. He often got frustrated when they didn’t understand it right away and found that he struggled to explain concepts in more than one way. It had him realizing that Lance deserved more credit than he'd given him back in college. At least he’d usually understood his explanations the first time.

Keith was coming off a particularly rough session that afternoon where he’d been helping a stressed out high school sophomore struggle through her calculus homework.

“Right, now you’ve got it in simplified form. And you know what to do from here?” He asked.

His student looked at him blankly.

“Differentiate it.” He prompted her.

Another blank stare.

“You know, take the derivative?”

“The devita… what?”

“The _de-riv-a-tive!_ ”

Next thing he knew, she was crying.

“Ah-” Keith had panicked after that. Not knowing what else to do, he’d ended up solving the problem for her.

Keith sighed as he boarded the bus. Maybe he wasn’t cut out for teaching after all, though, it sure paid better than his job at the diner. Which, he was still hanging onto for now, in case other options didn’t pan out.

Unexpectedly though, the biggest upside of the tutoring job was that it gave him people to talk to again. Even if it was merely instructional, Keith had been starving for social interaction. He’d barely seen Hunk and Pidge since the breakup, confirming his long-running suspicion that they were more Lance's friends than his. In fact, the person he’d interacted with the most in the last month was the ornery chef at the diner, and even then, it had mostly only been mutual grunting. He did have Shiro, but Keith had been minimizing his time at the gym, mainly opting to workout alone since things had gotten… awkward between them.

At least that night he was going to be around people. Maybe that’s why he wasn’t completely reeling at the idea of an engagement party. And… He might even get to see Lance again, something he both desperately wanted but was _dreading_ at the same time. His stomach twisted with nerves, having no idea how that was going to go.

 

Actually ahead of schedule for once, Keith was directed to a hotel room Rax was generously allowing the groomsmen to use to change into their suits and store their belongings. Shay’s surly older brother met him by the elevators to take him upstairs and let him inside. As far as hotel rooms went, it wasn’t the gaudiest but to Keith it was practically palatial.

“Wow, Rax, this place is really nice!”

A man of few words, Rax just grunted then gruffly informed Keith that he was to report to the courtyard no later than 5:45pm for inspection prior to the scheduled 6pm photos.

“And hurry up, you’re the last one here.”

“Wait, really?” Keith checked his phone. It was barely past 4:30.

“I guess everyone else took it upon themselves to arrive early,” Rax said curtly and didn’t stop the door from shutting loudly behind him.

Keith creased his brow but figured he shouldn’t be too surprised at already being on Rax’s bad side. They hadn’t exactly gotten off on the right foot.

Having the room all to himself, the first thing Keith did was faceplant in the dead-center of the bed and sink into the soft linens. Technically, he had more than enough time for a nap, but Keith got a better idea. He scrambled off the bed, grabbed a fluffy, white towel, and shut himself in the bathroom, ready to treat himself to a long, hot shower. Because he wasn’t paying for that water bill.

 

A good thirty minutes later, refreshed and toweling off his hair in the main part of the room, Keith stood half-dressed with his white, button-up shirt hanging open. He tossed the towel aside and laughed at the ridiculous mess that was his hair in the mirror. It wasn’t a bad look. It almost had a hair-metal, rock star quality to it, but... wetter.

There was the sound of a key in the lock and the door handle turning.

“I’m almost done, Rax. Just gimme a- Oh, it’s you...”

In the doorway, dressed in street clothes with a black garment bag slung over his shoulder and looking equally unhappy at who he’d found on the other side, stood Lance.

They stared at each other in displeased silence. Keith caught Lance’s eyes subtly tracking down his torso and pulled his shirt closed with a glare. Lance swiftly pretended he hadn’t been looking.

“I thought Rax said everyone else was already here,” Keith grumbled.

“Yeah, well, maybe Rax likes to pretend I’m not part of this wedding anymore.” Lance sauntered over to the bed and threw down his suit bag. “Nice hair…” He added snidely.

Keith caught another glimpse of his reflection and quickly reached for a hair brush. While righting the mess on his head, he watched Lance take his suit out of the garment bag in the mirror.

“So, how’ve you been?” Keith tried to make small talk to smooth over their rough start, keeping it casual, polite.

Lance snorted at the question.

“Yeah, well, me too.” Keith tossed the hair brush aside and started angrily buttoning up his shirt.

“And whose fault is that, I wonder?”

“I thought we agreed to not get into it with each other,” Keith snapped back.

“Whatever, I’ll just change in the bathroom.” Lance grabbed his suit and moodily ripped open the sliding door to the toilet. He was dismayed to find the bathroom a steamy, wet mess.

“The fan doesn’t work.” Keith informed him and tried not to make it sound like an apology.

Lance laboriously rolled the door shut again, letting his annoyance at having to share the space with Keith be known.

“Look, it’s a big enough room. You stay on that side, and I'll stay on this one. We’ll just keep out of each other’s way,” Keith offered the compromise in response to Lance’s sour face.

They ended up having to share the single, but thankfully wide enough for two, mirror in front of a vanity-dresser combo.

Awkward didn’t do it justice. They’d barely spoken in over six weeks and suddenly they were stuck in close quarters, mere feet apart and painfully aware of each other’s presence. Tension was thick on the air and the uncomfortable silence made every sound - the shuffling of clothes, the raking of a comb through hair - all the more noticeable.

“So, did you find a place yet or what?” Keith couldn’t take the deafening silence anymore and it seemed a safe enough question. He’d been wondering, worrying about when he might lose Red too.

“Not yet.” Lance flicked his dress shirt off the hanger and attempted to smooth out the wrinkles acquired in transit. “What about you? Found a better job?”

“Yeah, sort of...” Keith’s confidence faltered. The tutoring gig might not be working out well enough to mention and he didn’t want to bring up the standing job offer from Shiro.

“Is it actually paying the bills? ‘Cause I guess I could help you if-”

“I’m fine.” Keith cut him off sharply, insulted by the insinuation. He would gladly go into debt before accepting financial help from Lance. 

They spent a few minutes fussing with their clothes and hair in silence. Keith dawdled on finishing his hair just to stay nearer to Lance, who had pulled off his dark blue t-shirt in preparation for donning his button-up.

“Keith…”

“Yeah?”

“You're staring.”

“Shit…” Keith quickly cleared his throat and put his eyes outside the mirror that held Lance’s reflection.

A sound escaped Lance that might have been a snicker.

“Hey, did you ever-” Lance started then changed his mind. “Ah- nevermind.”

“Did I ever what?” Keith stopped what he was doing to ask gently.

Lance hesitated. “Did you ever mess around with anyone else?”

Keith was surprised by the question. “While I was with you? No. And what the hell, why?”

“No reason.” Lance played it off, and spent the next few minutes trying to decide if it made it better or worse that it had only been Shiro.

“Wait, did _you?_ ” Keith asked, suddenly concerned.

“Of course not!” Lance was offended he would even ask. “Well, actually... I did almost kiss someone once. But it didn’t happen, so...”

“What? Who?” Keith demanded. “When?”

“Nobody. Forget I said anything.”

Keith huffed angrily.

“You know I only thought it was okay because you let us do it at the club, right?” Keith couldn’t stop himself from pointing that out again. “And then I even asked you-”

“Yes, Keith, I can follow your logic.” Lance sighed with haughty irritation. “But it doesn’t make it any better that you lied about it.”

“I never lied, Lance! I just didn’t think to mention it. It didn’t seem like an important detail at the time.”

“Well, it was a pretty important detail to me!” Lance’s volume rose to one notch below shouting.

“Yeah, I know that now…” Keith kept his voice soft, de-escalating the argument.

Lance rolled his eyes with a miffed puff of air and went back to plucking his eyebrows.

“You know what, Lance?” Keith changed his mind and spun to face him. “You fooled around with him once too! Don’t think I forgot about that! And I _still_ don’t know exactly what you guys did in there because _we never talked about it either._ So excuse me if I never thought to bring it up!”

The tweezers in Lance’s hand froze just above his eyebrow. He remained quiet, remembering the very steamy shower he and Shiro had taken together after one of their threesomes. Technically, Keith was right; They’d never talked about the specifics. And he’d done exactly what Keith had done ...and then some. It hadn’t exactly been ‘hands only’.

“Whatever, Keith. That was different. I told you right after and you were practically there.”

“I was passed out on the bed! How is that any different? And you _didn’t_ ask me first.” Keith’s chest swelled with indignance.

“The difference, Keith-” Lance stood his ground. “Is that I knew it wouldn’t bother you! I knew it wouldn’t break your heart!”

Keith’s teeth gnashed at the double standard.

“LANCE...” Seething with the fire of a thousand suns, Keith squared with the man next to him, ready to throw down, ready to vent all the frustrations that were eating him alive day and night. Fully prepared for the blow-out, shouting match of the century, Keith was poised to go down in flames. And staring into Lance’s blue eyes all he managed to shout was-

“I’M SORRY!” 

He looked as surprised at the words that had come out of his mouth as Lance did. Even more surprising were the regretful tears he couldn’t stop from welling in his eyes.

“I’m- I’m sorry…” He said it again with more control. “And… And I don’t know what else to say!” Tears began to tumble down his cheeks. “I wish that I could fix it, that I could change what happened, but... I _can’t_. This whole thing…” Keith threw up his arms, at a total loss. “It was a really dumb thing to lose you over.” He turned away to wipe his eyes then started fiddling with the tie around his neck. 

“Well that much we can agree on,” Lance snorted at the half-baked apology. “And what the hell are you doing over there…” He added eyeing the lopsided knot at Keith’s neck.

“Huh?” Keith said in response to the first part, but Lance had moved on to what was going on beneath his chin. “Oh... I dunno, tying my tie?”

“Like shoelaces?” Lance chortled.

“Ugh, fine! I just won’t wear one.” Keith started yanking the accessory that he’d worn twice in his life, at most, off his neck.

“No, no, stop. Rax’s rules, ties required.” Lance stepped in to help only to have his hands batted away.

“I don’t need you to do this for me, Lance!”

Lance held up his hands and left him to it. He watched Keith struggle another few seconds out the corner of his eye.

“Okay, here. Mirror me.” Lance turned his shoulders to Keith and held the two tongues of his blue tie.

Reluctantly, Keith accepted the help and turned to face him.

“Shorten this side a little…” Lance adjusted the thin end of Keith’s tie before he could protest.

“Okay, now, first we wanna make an ‘x’.” Lance crossed the longer side over the shorter one. Breath labored in the back of Keith’s throat at being spoken to like an ignorant child but he kept his grievances to himself.

“Now bring the long side around the back and thread it through under your chin, like this...”

Keith copied Lance’s movements, his eyes tracking Lance’s fingers. 

Lance’s long, beautiful fingers... 

Fingers that used to tickle him awake in the morning and sweep his hair back so a kiss could be placed on his temple while he was pretending to sleep. Fingers that would sneak up on him and grab his sides by surprise, making him yelp and then laugh softly when he was subsequently hugged from behind. Fingers that had explored every inch of his skin, and on many occasions, been inside his body… 

Keith swallowed, remembering what those fingers could do. 

He had to avert his eyes. Maybe it was just the collar hugging his neck but the room was suddenly rather warm.

“Across the front and then thread it- Hey! You’re not watching!” Lance complained.

Keith forced his eyes back to Lance’s deft fingers and tried not to lose focus.

“I can’t believe you never learned how to do this.” Lance teased him mildly.

“I did learn, I just forgot.”

Something that might have been a smile twitched on Lance’s face. It was contagious. Lance finished threading the final pass through and tightened the knot just under his chin. Keith hurried to catch up.

“Now just straighten it up a bit…” Lance briefly pulled on Keith’s tie once more. “And there! You’re done!” 

He leaned closer to scrutinize Keith’s work. 

“Hmm… Not bad, Kogane. I’d say that’s almost adequate. You might even pass inspection.” 

“Gee, thanks…” Keith returned the playful snark.

“So um, you think it was a dumb thing to break up over too?” Keith carefully brought them back to what had been said before.

The faint shadow of a smile was wiped off Lance’s face and his shoulder sagged an inch or two to go with it.

“Y-Yeah, maybe…” He rubbed the back of his head, unsure. “I just wish I hadn’t found out so after-the-fact that you...” His expression grew increasingly uncomfortable. “Ugh, you know what, I’m not ready to talk about it yet.”

“Okay.” 

Lance’s eyes asked for understanding and Keith gave it to him. 

“What?” Keith asked nervously. Lance was still staring at him.

“Nothing. Just- You look good, Keith.” A somewhat sad smile flickered again but the compliment alone was enough to set off a little burst of joy in Keith’s chest.

“So do you,” he replied and brushed his hand down Lance’s arm. His fingers lingered by his elbow as if held there by static electricity, or some other, more powerful kind of force. 

Their eyes met in a very heated way. It had been a while and if Keith had to guess, Lance was feeling the lack of a physical outlet as badly as he was.

“Hey, um…” Keith swallowed hard. He played with a loose thread on Lance’s elbow, knowing he was taking a big risk. “I know things are pretty messed up right now, and I don’t expect this to change anything, but do you maybe wanna-” He pulled at the edge of Lance’s pants in a way that made the other man’s breath deepen.

To his surprise, Lance didn’t shoot him down immediately or even recoil. On the contrary, Lance stepped _closer._ And then it was Keith’s turn to breathe harder. 

Without a word nor a break in eye contact, Lance pushed him up against the edge of the dresser fast. Keith’s blown-out pupils locked onto Lance’s blue irises in utter disbelief at what might be happening.

Lance’s hands gingerly moved up his sides, and not wanting to scare him off, Keith carefully brought his up and gently placed them on Lance’s hips. He pulled clawed fingertips along the outer edge of them, communicating a gentle message of want and just a little bit of _need._

He tried to continue around to the front of Lance’s pants but his wrist was pushed away.

“Sorry, do you not want to?”

Lance didn’t respond one way or the other but seemed to find eye contact as terrifying as Keith did. A brown cheek brushed past his own, breaking their gaze but bringing their bodies even closer. Keith’s arms slipped under Lance’s armpits while Lance's wrapped around him too. A narrow strip of air away from being flush, for a while they just stood there, carefully embracing, hands shyly grasping and wandering up dress shirt-clad backs, re-familiarizing themselves with each others topography.

Hot breath was hitting against Keith’s neck and something soft and warm that may have been a kiss but was so gentle and slight that it could barely be distinguished from breath was left against his skin. He nudged his nose along Lance’s jawline, putting the suggestion of a more intimate exchange out there but Lance turned away, not ready to take the bait.

Keith didn’t risk trying again, worried he had already pushed his luck too far, but still Lance’s hands didn't stray from his body.

A palm in the center of his former boyfriend's chest, Keith could feel a heart beating just as fast as his own. He settled his cheek into the crook of a familiar neck, letting it soothe a restless part of himself. 

He’d missed this. Just being close to Lance. It was a far-cry from the quickie he’d been envisioning, not that he was going to issue a single complaint. 

With a subtle clearing of his throat, Lance shifted and a very obvious protrusion pushed into Keith’s thigh. Keith labored through an exhale at the building pressure between their bodies and answered back with a mass of his own. 

Breath deepening and bodies pressing in just the right places, the softness gradually became more heated. Feather-light touches and delicate sweeps of fingertips became more clawing and intentioned. Pressing gave way to rocking, rocking turned into grinding, impatient hands began to wander south of the border again, and soon there was no denying where they were headed.

“Jesus, Keith… This is bad. In Rax’s room of all places?” A mischievousness undermined his caution.

“Psh, screw Rax. That guy sucks.”

“Yeah, he kinda does,” Lance snickered, untucking and feeling under the edges of Keith’s shirt.

Keith took Lance by the wrist, guiding and encouraging him to be less shy about it.

“Seriously, what the hell does he mean we have to pass an inspec-”

Keith was cut short because, with hooded lids, Lance’s head rolled towards him and caught him by the mouth. 

Gasped audibly through his nostrils, Keith was momentarily in shock. Lance's lips were just as soft as he remembered.

It was a fleeting moment. Lance pulled back abruptly, like it had been a fluke or maybe even a mistake. Keith stared at him with wide, vibrant eyes. He brought a hand to the back of Lance’s neck, drawing soft circles with his fingertips, encouraging him to do it again.

Their mouths inched closer until finally with a rapid closing of the final centimeters Lance obliged, and tacitly, they agreed it hadn’t been a fluke. Their kiss was hesitant, at first. With lots of gaps and room for heavy breaths in between. Lance reset his lips with the introduction of some teeth and suddenly there was a lot less hesitation in either of them. Moaning into it, Keith leaned his weight back into the dresser, pulling the other man closer with everything he had and letting his fingers run up the back of a narrow neck and into Lance’s hair.

The moment grew frantic. Neatly done-up ties were haphazardly undone. Shirts were torn open. A casualty in the form of a button was sent skittering across the floor. Lance's shirt was open and Keith's hanging off his elbows as hands found bare skin and freshly washed, still-damp hair. The various objects cluttering the dresser were hastily swept aside and Keith lifted himself up on top of the wooden surface mid-kiss, wrapping his legs around the man in front of him.

Lance pulled back again with heavy breath.

“This does not mean I forgive you,” he warned against Keith’s lips.

“Right, yeah. Got it,” Keith gasped between kisses then mashed their mouths together again.

Lance gripped a handful of Keith’s hair and pulled his head back hard. It had Keith choking back a sound as Lance’s teeth scraped across his bottom lip.

“Because I definitely don’t forgive you.”

His pants were all but ripped open a moment later.

Groaning at the pressure being applied to the back of his skull, Keith shifted to give him better access. Lance’s hand worked its way into his underwear sending Keith's foot kicking into the dresser beneath him, so good it was almost unbearable. Gasping Lance’s name, his fingers raked through brown hair, drowning in him. Drowning in Lance.

“Please tell me you’re gonna fuck me...” The whispered plea elicited an audible groan from the other man, and with a self-satisfied smirk Keith felt him twitch through his pants.

“You might have to settle for my hand, I don’t know if I have any-”

Keith lunged to the side to swipe something off the far corner of the vanity and promptly handed it to him.

“Christ, does this belong to Rax?” Lance’s eyes bugged out at the bottle of lube.

 _Don’t know, don’t care_ said the look on Keith's face.

“Oh, jeez… In his room is one thing, but- Ugh, here goes nothing...” Already deep down the rabbit hole of bad decisions, Lance popped off the cap.

Keith bit his swollen lip, ready for those fingers he’d been staring at to get to work.

“By the way, Keith…” Lance's eyes turned hard as he firmly set the bottle aside. He grabbed one of Keith’s wrists and threw it over his head, holding it against the mirror as he brought their faces close. “I still don’t forgive you.” He then bit Keith’s neck so hard it had him crying out in shock. Lance’s other hand moved between his legs and got to work. Keith squirmed, eating up the roughness.

“Lance, you’d better hurry if you wanna…” Keith warned him as his out-of-practice stamina waned.

Wasting no time, Lance stepped back and dropped trou just enough. He paused a moment after, wafting vengeful eyes over the man that had betrayed him.

But, panting and slumped halfway against the mirror with his shirt barely on and a hand still overhead, Keith just smiled at him, putting those soft, puppy eyes he adored on display. And then something miraculous happened. Lance smiled back. A real, genuine beam burst forth across his features. And for a wonderful moment the world felt right again.

“Keith…” Lance’s smile faltered. He leaned over the man before him, his hands on the blonde wood of the dresser. “I- I still don’t…” He stumbled over his words, conflicted.

“Hey…” Keith’s fingers traced up Lance’s arm, drifted over the gentle slope of his neck, brushed over a sun-kissed, freckled cheek then slipped around to the back of his head, pulling him closer... closer…

Fixed on Lance, if Keith’s eyes could have spoken they’d have said _I’m sorry._

_I’m sorry and I love you._

Their lips met without Lance finishing his thought.

Everything about it was familiar. With Lance above him, they kissed like they used to. Shifting into position and with a nervous skip of his heart, Keith realized that they weren’t on the verge of fucking anymore. They were on the verge of making love.

So consumed, they were, in each others mouths and in what was about to transpire that neither of them heard a key card scratching in the slot.

The door swung unabashedly open.

“Hey, Keith, have you seen my- Whoa! Okay!” 

The preoccupied couple’s lips broke and they shared a moment of panicked eye contact.

“SHIRO! GET OUT!” Keith barked from atop the dresser with his limbs fastened around Lance and his trousers hanging off by a single pant leg.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry! I was never here!” The door quickly slammed shut behind the intruder but it was too late. Lance was already distracted, a sadness overtaking his features.

“No, no, no, no, no… Hey.” Keith stroked his face trying to bring him back into it, but Lance gently pushed his hand away.

“This was a bad idea...” He said, pulling away.

“Lance, wait…” Keith tried to keep him close, but like fine sand Lance slipped through his grasp.

With his back to the mirror, Lance silently clothed himself, snatched up his jacket and tie, and made for the door. Keith didn’t watch him go but flinched when he heard it shut behind him.

Disheveled, half-naked, and once again alone in Rax’s hotel room, Keith sagged against the mirror, his body screaming for Lance's touch and his heart aching for him a thousand times more. He kicked his heel into the dresser again and muttered a curse through gritted teeth.

“Goddammit, Shiro.”

 

Lance mashed the button to call the elevator then hurried into a carriage before he could change his mind. Still breathing heavily, he struggled to get his tie on during the ride down. His lips and body were tingling, his hands left shaking from Keith’s warmth. 

As soon as the elevator doors opened, Lance headed straight for the hotel bar. And who should he run into as he cut through the lobby but the ruiner of all good things, himself.

“Oh, Lance, hey… I was actually hoping to catch you. I’ve been wanting to apologize for-”

“Save it, Shiro,” Lance growled and stalked right past him without doing him the honor of eye contact.

“Ah, okay then.” Shiro sighed and let him go. 

Keith emerged from the elevator bay not long after. His eyes scanned the lobby for Lance but fell on someone else instead. He huffed in annoyance when Shiro started to approach him and quickly took off in the opposite direction.

Shiro sighed again and rocked on his heels in the lobby, finding himself smack in the middle of yet another catastrophe.

 

At 6pm sharp, the numerous members of Shay’s extended family, the full Balmeran clan, plus the bridesmaids and groomsmen assembled in the courtyard for photos. Rax had meticulously inspected everyone's attire to ensure they all matched.

Keith managed to inch closer to Lance while they were getting organized for a group shot.

“I passed inspection.” He lifted his tie in an attempt to break the ice, but all he got was a mildly unimpressed look for it. His mood plummeted further as Lance immediately put several of Shay’s distant cousins between the two of them.

“Okay, everyone. Three… Two… One… Say cheese!”

Keith couldn’t find it in himself to even attempt to fake a smile.

 

Thankfully, the provided dinner was buffet-style and there weren’t assigned seats. Keith wasn’t hungry and kept to himself at an unoccupied table in the far corner. Between sulking, he kept sneaking sullen glances at the table where Hunk, Pidge, and Lance were sitting. It looked like they were enjoying themselves, which made him feel even more left out. 

Shiro found him eventually.

“This seat taken?” He asked, carrying two plates.

Keith shrugged, unenthusiastic, but didn’t stop him from sitting down either. 

“Eat.” 

A plate of hot food that smelled heavenly was put in front of him. 

“And I’m sorry about earlier,” Shiro added. 

Keith just shrugged and reluctantly picked up his fork. “It’s not like you knew we were in there.”

“Well hey, on the bright side, things must be getting better if you guys can be, uh… _friendly_ like that again.” Shiro tried to put a positive spin on it.

“Yeah, I dunno about that...” Keith moped seeing Lance laugh loudly again across the room and shoveled a fork-load of food into his mouth.

“Nora misses you.” Shiro changed topics. “She asks about her Coach Keith every class.”

Keith rolled his eyes with a mouthful of brussel sprouts. “Is this where you try to get me to come work with you again? Because I’ve already told you-”

“Just consider it.” Shiro held up his hands to ease the pressure. “You’re great with the kids, Keith. They’re a handful on my own and I could use more trainers like you.”

While it was true that Keith missed working with the kids, rambunctious, snot-ridden balls of endless energy though they may be, they were a lot more fun than some of the too-cool-for-school teens at the tutoring center. He remained noncommittal on the topic.

 

The party was in full swing after dinner was over. The dance floor was open and the alcohol flowing, but Lance wasn’t in the mood. Still feeling like he’d taken a mean hit to the gut, he was hiding out by the bar quietly nursing a drink and putting all his mental energy into not thinking about Keith.

Sensing he needed some company, Shay approached him with a muscular but still somewhat slender brunette that was every bit a Balmeran at her side. Her hair was short and styled asymmetrically with bright purple highlights that matched the embellishments of her dress. The first thing Lance noticed about her was that she was _tall._ Taller than him, probably without her heels too. And though she was unconventional, Lance would be lying if he said she didn’t catch his eye.

“Lance, this is my cousin Esther.” Shay introduced the woman at her side. “She’s also going through a breakup.” She informed him, nudging his side.

“Jesus, Shay… Really?” Lance tried not to glare at the forwardness. He had explicitly said he didn’t want to be setup with anyone, even if this girl she’d brought over was awfully nice to look at.

“Relax, it’s not what you’re thinking,” Shay assured him. “I just figured you guys might have something to talk about. Anyways, she’s gay too.”

“I’m not gay, Shay.” Lance pointed out rather brusquely. 

“Ah, right. Sorry... You know what I meant though.” Apologetic, she hurried off to tend to her other guests.

Lance turned to the woman next to him, who was looking rather unimpressed.

“Sorry, that was rude of me.” Lance quickly remembered his manners. “I’m Lance, and I’m bisexual, not gay.” He extended his hand to her.

“Hello, Lance the not-gay-bisexual. I’m Esther.” She firmly shook his hand. “And I am a gold star lesbian.”

“Nice!” Lance cried then realized by her reaction that his enthusiasm had probably come off as creepy. “Ah, what I _meant_ was... That’s actually a relief. I’m not ready to be setup with anyone yet.”

“Rough breakup, huh?”

“I threw my ex’s engagement ring in the ocean.” Already a few drinks in, Lance didn’t bother holding back.

“Yikes!” Esther’s eyes went wide. “Is it too nosy if I ask why you guys-”

“He cheated.”

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry.”

“Eh, shit happens.” Lance shrugged callously. “It sure is putting a damper on all this holiday cheer though.” He picked a piece of prickly holly and a red berry off the stem of his champagne glass with disdain.

“Right? Worst time of year to be single. Thank god they didn’t hang mistletoe.” She griped with him. 

Esther stepped away briefly to order a drink and Lance suspected that might be the end of their conversation. He grimaced at not having made the best impression, but to his surprise she came back after.

“So tell me, definitely-not-gay Lance...” She turned to him, swirling the olive in her martini. “What’s the worst thing about your ex?”

Lance tilted his head with delight. This girl did not mince words. 

“Well…” He smiled and decided that he might like this cousin Esther after all. “The worst thing about Keith…”

“Keith, huh? Terrible name.”

“You know, I thought that too when I first met him.” Lance chuckled. “But, other than the fact that I’m still paying his rent, he's still driving my car, _and_ he has my dog, I think the worst thing about him is…” Lance’s eyes tracked across the room until he spotted the topic of contention. “...that he’s _here._ We’re both groomsmen in this wedding.”

“Ouch! That’s gotta be awkward.”

“Yeah, it’s not great.” He knocked back a healthy sip of champagne. “And it’s like, I’m gearing up to celebrate my best friend’s wedding - and don’t get me wrong I’m so happy for Hunk, but because he’s here, all I can think about is... that I’m never gonna get to do any of this with him.” He looked at her feebly.

“Oh yeah, weddings are great for that.” She nodded a little bitterly. “At least I don’t actually have to _see_ Mary anymore. I’d probably slip up real bad if she was still around.”

Lance nearly choked on his drink.

“You’re telling me! We nearly hooked up right before this party. I’m talkin’ like _in this hotel._ ”

“Oh?” Her face lit up with intrigue. “Look at you making such... interesting life decisions.” 

Lance hit her with an _I know right_ look and drained the rest of his drink. She had no idea. He could only imagine what would have happened if Rax has walked in instead of Shiro. 

“But now I’ve got this urge to just get him alone again and…” Lance shook his head. “I know it’s probably a horrible idea, but it’s so hard to not think about him when he’s _right there..._ ” He gazed wistfully in direction of Keith’s corner.

“Lance…” Esther put down her glass on the bar and turned to him. “Would you like to dance with me?”

Lance beamed at her. “I would love that.”

  


They stepped onto the semi-crowded dance floor.

“Oh uh, is it alright if I lead?” Lance asked, not wanting to make assumptions.

“For now. We can switch off,” Esther suggested. “So tell me more about this ex of yours. What are we working with?”

Lance gave her the rundown. How they’d met and crushed on each other for years before they’d finally gotten together, the cute things Keith used to do like text him pizza emojis in place of hearts because he was too emotionally constipated to actually say ‘I love you’ and his borderline-unhealthy attachment to CoCo Puffs cereal. She nodded along to his story and noted that he was sure smiling a lot for someone he claimed had broken his heart.

“And then, a couple months back he cheated…” Lance’s smile fell away. “It all happened really fast after that. I moved out and everything. I even threw-”

“...his ring in the ocean.” She finished for him. “Yeah, you mentioned that.”

“Yeah… Yeah, I did that.” Lance said sadly.

“Oh, okay. I see how it is,” Esther said knowingly. “You want to get back with him.” 

“Is that bad?” Lance cringed.

“Well…” She bobbled her head. “Honestly, he sounds kinda shitty...”

“The thing is, he’s not.” Lance came to Keith’s defense. “He just did a shitty thing.”

“Is there a difference?” She looked at him skeptically.

Lance frowned while he thought about it.

“Let me at least get a look at this guy,” Esther requested.

Lance scanned the room and turned them as they danced to give her a view. “Okay, he should be right over my shoulder by the-”

“Red tie? Kinda emo? Hair that needed a cut like yesterday?”

Lance couldn't stop the grin from breaking across his face. “That’s him. Wait, how did you know?”

“He’s been staring at you the whole time we’ve been dancing.”

“Really?” Lance turned to look.

“Don’t let him see you looking!” Esther swung him hard into a turn and started to take the lead. “Eyes on me,” she whispered, then peered over Lance’s shoulder again. “Oh yeah, he’s definitely checking you out. Look at you smiling!” She slapped him on the arm. “Boy, you still got it bad for him.”

“I can’t help it, okay…” Lance’s eyes started to drift in the direction of Keith again. 

“Ah-Ah-Ah-!” Esther grabbed him by the chin and kept being his eyes. “Oh… Uh oh, he just got up. He’s heading towards the door... I think he’s gonna leave.” 

Lance’s heart was pumping fast, hanging on her every commentary. Desperate to look himself, he was even more desperate to go after Keith. 

“Wow, he looks pretty sad… I think he might miss you too,” she said with a sly expression.

Lance smiled to himself. “You know I’ve been thinking about giving him a second chance…”

“Well, by the way he just reacted… Probably not a bad time to have a chat.” She winked at him.

“Eh, let him wait a little longer.” Lance lifted his arm to spin her then took back the lead. “I want to hear why you and your girl broke up first.”

“Oh, we actually had a great relationship. She just cared about her job more than me.”

“Oh, that’s... much more reasonable.” Lance was suddenly embarrassed by all his drama.

“Eh…” Esther shrugged. “Different kind of shitty.”

Lance laughed. “I like you, Esther. Almost enough to ask you out.”

“Aw, that’d be great.” She smiled. “Oh, but Lance… I’m gay. And you are so clearly still in love with your ex.”

“Ah, right…”

They both laughed.

 

On the other side of the room, Keith was pacing back and forth _seething_ that Lance was laughing it up and dancing with some pretty girl. He had lost it - absolutely _lost it_ \- when she’d touched his face. Who the hell did she think she was putting her hands on him like that?

And aside from that, none of it made any sense. Lance had been in his arms kissing him just hours ago and now suddenly he was back to his old ways picking up girls? 

Well, Keith wasn’t going to stand for it. He just needed a way to get Lance’s attention, to distract him from that _girl_ he was dancing with. Keith briefly considered pulling the fire alarms or upending a table and somehow making it look like an accident, but instead he spotted Shiro sitting at a table with Allura and some of Shay’s family and got a better idea. 

He stomped over to his trainer and grabbed him by the arm.

“Dance with me.” Keith demanded.

“Ah- O...kay,” Shiro said as he was unceremoniously dragged from his chair by the elbow and over to the dance floor.

Keith positioned them amongst the bodies and dancing couples so they would fall directly in Lance’s line of sight next time he and his dance partner turned.

“Keith, are you alright?” Shiro asked after being pulled this way and that.

“Yeah, I’m great. Let’s dance.” He put his arms over the back of Shiro’s neck, pulling him in close. He kept watch on Lance out of the corner of his eye, and when the timing was just right…

Keith made his move and tried to pull Shiro into a kiss. 

“Keith, what the-” Shiro balked an inch before their mouths met and stared at the other man like he was out of his mind. He followed to where Keith’s eyes kept darting and after seeing who was dancing behind them, understood what was going on.

“Keith…” Shiro reigned in his frustration first then took the smaller man firmly by the shoulders and held him out at arm’s length. “I see what you’re doing, and trust me, this is _not_ how you win him back.”

The stern look and direct callout rendered Keith momentarily speechless.

“Shit. Shiro, hey…” Keith called after his trainer as he stormed off. He looked to where Lance was still dancing and talking animatedly with the same girl, completely oblivious to anything that had happened. Feeling like an asshole and a little bit a fool, Keith slowly edged off the dance floor and went after Shiro.

 

He found him waiting in the corridor outside with his arms folded, visibly upset. Keith geared himself up for an apology but Shiro cut in first.

“Don’t use me like that, Keith!”

“Oh, what? Like you used Lance to get to me?” Keith went from zero to red-hot fast.

Shiro was too stunned to have a comeback right away but Keith could tell he’d cut deeper than he meant to.

“Sorry, that was uncalled for.” Keith tried to get a handle on his wildly in-flux emotions but felt himself tipping the other way. “Shiro, I’m- I’m kinda falling apart without him…” He admitted with shaky breath. His frame shuddered with a poorly hidden sob.

With a reluctant sigh, Shiro extended an arm for him. 

Keith hesitated, asking with watery eyes if it was really okay to accept the comfort.

Shiro nodded that it was, and Keith willingly stepped under his wing. The same wing that had been there for him since his early, troubled days at the Garrison.

Shiro guided him outside so he could cry in private.

 

“Hunk! Your cousin Esther is awesome!” Sloshing drink in hand, Lance threw a jovial arm around his best friend. “I wish I was gay like her.”

“I… have no idea what that means,” a very perplexed Hunk replied. “But yeah, Esther’s great. How you holding up, man? You seem pretty good.”

“Yeah, I’m- I’m alright.”

Hunk regretted asking after Lance’s enthusiasm took a hit.

“It’s just really hard seeing him, ya know?”

“Yeah I know, buddy.” Hunk patted his back.

“I really thought…” Lance looked around the room wistfully at the gathered family and friends there to celebrate the happy couple's union. “I really thought this would be us one day. I thought you and Shay and me and Keith- I thought we’d raise families together. And our kids would play with your kids and… and...” Lance trailed off, his shoulders sagging as his dream evanesced into the ether.

Hunk frowned on his behalf.

“I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to say this, but… It could still happen.”

“You think?” Lance looked at his friend, unsure.

Hunk shrugged optimistically. “You never know, right? And if not with Keith, well, there’s plenty more fish in the sea. You’re a good looking guy, you’ll catch ‘em.” Hunk slapped his back.

“Thanks man. You always take care of me when I’m broken-hearted and crying over someone. Maybe I should be marrying you instead.”

“Okay, I think you’ve had enough of these.” Hunk took the cockeyed champagne glass away from the man that had latched onto his side.

 

“Everything is so fucked up, Shiro! Just _so_ fucked up!” Outside on the patio steps, Keith let loose. “One second we’re barely speaking, the next we’re fighting, then suddenly we’re tearing each others clothes off... And now he’s going after someone else?” Keith threw his hands up, growing increasingly indignant. “I've tried apologizing, I’ve tried giving him space… I don’t know what else to do!” He accepted the tissue that was handed to him and blew his nose loudly. “There's something still there with him, Shiro. I know it! I just can't get him to let me in...”

“You might have to give him more time. This one hit Lance pretty hard.” Shiro sat at his side with a comforting hand at his back.

Keith grumbled at the advice.

“God, I wish we’d never even gotten involved with you. Everything just fell apart after that. And I _definitely_ wish I’d never…” He cast a scornful look at the man next to him. “You’re great, Shiro but you weren’t worth it.” A bit past tipsy, Keith realized he was running his mouth. “Ugh, great... Now I’m probably just making you feel like shit too.” He slumped forward with his head in his hands.

“I promise you, I already felt like shit.” Shiro chuckled sadly.

“Hey, I thought you didn’t swear.”

“I thought I followed the rules too,” Shiro said wryly and took a swig from his flask.

“I miss him so much, Shiro...” Keith ducked back under the safety of his trainer's arm and leaned against his side. “I’d give anything to undo it all.”

Squeezing his shoulders in a half-hug, Shiro offered him the flask. Keith took it and sputtered mid-swig.

“What the fuck, is this ginger ale?”

“Designated driver.”

“God, you’re so straight-edge.” Keith playfully shoved him and took another swig.

Shiro laughed and gently knocked him back.

They came back around to seriousness.

“I’ve actually been meaning to apologize to you guys,” Shiro said. “Lance especially, but I don’t think he wants to hear it from me yet.”

“Yeah, he hates your guts right now. You should’ve seen his face when you walked in on us…” Keith slumped with sadness again and limply passed the flask back.

Shiro accepted it with a sigh.

“He has every right to hate me. And again, I’m _really_ sorry about that. My timing could not have been worse.”

“Yeah…” Keith barely whispered. He put his hand over his eyes, getting choked up again because for a moment there, it had really felt like he had Lance back.

“Aw, Keith…” Shiro’s hand came up to affectionately ruffle his hair. He pulled Keith’s head close, planted a kiss in his dark hair, then leaned his cheek on top of it.

“You know, I owe you an apology, too.” Shiro went on. “I really complicated things for you and I want you to know that... I never meant to.”

“I never meant for you to either.”

Their eyes met in a very dangerous and charged way. 

The moment lasted a second longer than it should have, but Keith looked away first. Shiro did too a moment later and awkwardly brushed the back of his head.

“Ah, Keith… There's something more I need to say...”

“Shiro, I- I can't…”

“I know. But this is as your mentor and friend.”

He turned back to Keith. Shiro’s eyes saddened as he brushed a thumb across a pale cheek and brought his hand in to cup the side of a tear-streaked face.

“I’m so sorry, kiddo. It feels like I failed you.”

Keith almost laughed under his breath. Shiro hadn’t called him kiddo in years. He managed a small smile and let his trainer's arm slide around him again. Returning the comfort, Keith tilted his head onto Shiro's shoulder. If there was one thing he understood, it was failure.

 

At a table off to the side of the dance floor, Lance was sitting backwards on a chair with his arms folded over the back of it as a chin rest. Hunk had left him there with a cup of water and sitting there watching all the dancing couples he was nothing short of miserable. Half-drunk, trapped in his own head, and intoxicated enough that he couldn't lie to himself anymore, he admitted it... He missed Keith. He couldn't stop thinking about what had happened in the hotel room and how _right_ it had felt. Lance brushed his thumb over his lips, remembering…

“You look way too sad for a party.” Pidge came up beside him.

Lance grunted, not falling out of his thoughts.

She pulled up a chair next to him and sat similarly in it.

“What’s eating you, Party McClain?” 

“Second chances…” Lance muttered.

“Huh?”

“Second chances.” He said again with more confidence. “Pidge...” He turned to her and smiled. “I’m gonna go find Keith!”

“Hell yeah! It’s about time!” She punched him in the arm as he scrambled to his feet. “Go get him, champ!” 

  


Flying high, Lance began checking all the solitary corners and secluded spots in the event hall, the types of places a moody Keith would usually haunt. In that moment, he didn’t care what had happened with Shiro. He just wanted to hold Keith again.

He checked the bathroom, the hidden corner behind the bar. He even looked in the coat room, becoming more desperate and hurried with every location that Keith wasn’t.

He still had the plane tickets. They could figure it out over the holidays. So what if things had gotten complicated? Deep down Lance knew Keith loved him and that he didn’t actually want to be with Shiro. He headed out of the main party area to see if Keith was lurking somewhere in the lobby. He came around the corner into the corridor and...

“Keith!”

Lance spotted him through a windowed door, perched on the steps leading down into the courtyard outside. 

His insides melted as soon as he spied that mullet. Overcome with soft feelings, he charged down the hall. As he got closer, the changing angle revealed something else through the window. Lance skidded to a stop dead in his tracks. 

Keith wasn’t alone.

Outside, at the top of the patio steps, with their backs turned to him, sat Shiro and Keith.

Together. 

And they looked very... _comfortable._

Lance stuck his head out like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Shiro’s arm was around him, his thumb rubbing the top of Keith’s sleeve. And Keith was... leaning into him. Stunned stupid, Lance watched the, by all accounts, _couple_ from the corridor. Watched them laugh and share a flask, saw them playfully shove each other with their shoulders. He even jolted back a step when Shiro touched the back of Keith’s head and _kissed_ his hair. And then, there was a moment when they looked at each other in a way that sucked the air from Lance’s lungs and left him feeling so... invisible.

Maybe Keith _did_ want to be with Shiro after all.

Lance turned on his heels away from the pair and clenched his fists, his heart on the brink of breaking all over again.

Alcohol. 

Lance needed alcohol. 

He stormed back into the party and nabbed a glass of champagne from the nearest server with at tray, downing it all in one go. With a hefty, but not yet satiated gasp, he firmly set the empty glass back on the tray and eyed the open bar next. Furious at how his night and the intended second chance he’d been ready to offer Keith had turned out, he shoved his hands in his suit jacket pockets and made a beeline for the free booze, ready to drink himself into oblivion.

But Lance didn’t make it that far.

There was something in his pocket brushing against his knuckles.

He pulled out what appeared to be a wadded up piece of trash. After unfolding one of the corners, he saw it was… a business card. One that had been given to him the last time he’d worn that jacket.

And suddenly, Lance knew exactly where he needed to be.

 

He passed Pidge on his way to the lobby.

“So, did you find him?” She asked with a sneaky smile.

“Yeah, I found him alright,” Lance snorted and kept walking.

“Wait, what happened?” Pidge tried to stop him but he pulled his sleeve from her grip.

“Nothing. I’m outta here.”

Pidge turned to look in the direction her friend had come from and through the glass doors leading outside, saw exactly what had upset him. Her eyes narrowed at the cozy pair on the steps. Gritting her teeth, she stormed down the corridor and flung open the patio doors.

“KEITH, YOU FUCKING IDIOT!”

“Huh?” Keith looked over his shoulder, caught off guard at the outburst.

“Lance just saw you - and _you-_ ” She pointed an accusatory finger at Shiro. “Looking like- THAT!” She flailed her arms at them and only then did Keith realize what it looked like.

“Shit, no!” He leapt to his feet. “I have to go talk to him. Where is he?”

“On his way out. Hurry!” Pidge pointed.

Shiro started to get up too.

“No, not you! You stay here.” Pidge pinned him in place with the same angry finger. “You’ve done enough already.” 

 

Keith sprinted through the lobby to where the taxis picked up and was met with an empty curb. Lance was nowhere to be found. He leaned his hands on his knees, breathing hard in defeat. Pidge came up behind him shortly thereafter. 

“Pidge! I swear we were just talking. And about Lance! About how much we both want to make things right with him!”

“Jesus fucking christ, Keith…” Pidge slapped her palm into her forehead. “You and Shiro can’t be a _‘we’_ right now! Do you get that? _Especially_ not around Lance if you want to keep any remaining shot you might have with him!” She gave him the most unimpressed, deadpan look.

Keith blinked, totally dumbfounded, but she was completely right.

“Fuck!” He loudly vented his frustrations at messing up yet again, earning a dirty look from the valet and curbside concierge. “But he was just… He was just being a good friend!”

“If that’s your idea of friendship, then maybe you shouldn't be friends right now!”

“He’s all I have!” Keith cried.

“Bullshit! You have me and Hunk!” Pidge put two fingers between her lips and whistled to hail a cab.

“I do? I figured you guys would be on his side…”

“It’s not about picking sides, Keith! Look, you’re both our friends, and I don’t think there’s a single person this situation doesn't suck for,” Pidge explained as she clambered into the back of a yellow cab. “Well, are you getting in or not?” She looked at him expectantly.

“Huh? Where are we going?”

“To find Lance, you idiot!”

Keith scrambled into the backseat fast.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter **A Reunion: Part II** will be posted tomorrow or Tuesday after I finish the final edits!
> 
>  **ART** [ Keith getting thirsty over Lance's hands ](https://enjayas.tumblr.com/post/178623852059/update-please-responsibly) by the amazing sihaya_art  
> 
> Yes, Lance _did_ have some alone time with Shiro in PMASR (snippet below). It was kind of glossed over so I don't expect you to remember it, however even the littlest things have a way of getting dredged up in an ugly breakup so...
> 
> PMASR Chapter 11, post-threesome
>
>> _“Well good morning sunshine,” Lance grinned smugly._
>> 
>> _“Hey…” Keith smiled lazily at the man leaning over him. Lance smelled clean and his damp hair was sticking to the sides of his face. “Wait, where’s Shiro…” He glanced around, quickly ascertaining that not only was it not morning, but Shiro wasn’t there._
>> 
>> _“He’s still in the shower. Pizza’s on the way.”_
>> 
>> _“Wait, were you in there with him?” Keith asked, doing a double take at Lance’s freshly-showered state._
>> 
>> _“Maybe… We, uh... might have fooled around a little,” Lance smiled sheepishly, hoping Keith wouldn't be too mad about it._
>> 
>> _Luckily, Keith just laughed._
>> 
>> _“Good. You guys earned it.” If it was with Shiro and under their roof, Keith really didn’t care what they did._  
> 
> 
>   
> 


	9. A Reunion: Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance is missing. Keith and Pidge go looking for him.
> 
> As promised within 24 hours, this update comes on the heels of the last one because they were meant to be experienced in quick succession.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PDR AU, with chapters coming at you faster than seasons of Voltron! 
> 
> Ahem, picking up right where we left off...  
> 

  


The driver had evidently taken the twenty Pidge had given him and the accompanying request to ‘floor it’ to heart because suddenly they were holding on for dear life in the back seat.

“Wait, you really think I still have a shot with him?” Gripping the handle affixed above the car’s window and leaning into the turn, Keith directed the question at Pidge.

She cut him a serious look. 

“I don’t think it’s outside the realm of possibilities. But you _cannot_ fuck this up again! You and Shiro?” She drew her finger across her neck like a knife.

Heeding her every word, Keith straightened and set his jaw with determination, ready to do whatever was necessary to win Lance back.

 

Lance was in a cab too, heading in the opposite direction. He idly flipped a creased business card over in his hand. The destination written in reflective ink flashed under the passing streetlights every so often. He stared out the window as the buildings and streets of a part of town he used to know passed by, a mild irony brewing somewhere in the muted emotions he was able to feel.

He got out in front of a high-end hotel and looked up at the dizzying stretch of stories and balconies above him. The last glass of champagne he’d chugged was hitting him, warping the perspective all the more.

Mind fuzzy, the next few minutes passed it a blur. Squinting at the blindingly bright lights of a marbled lobby. Locking eyes with a well-dressed, curious concierge. Arguing with a bellhop who eventually badged him into a private elevator. A lengthy, solitary ride up. And suddenly he was standing before a pair of immaculate, white double doors at the end of a long hallway. Gold trim embellished the doorway and it was bookended by roaring, marble lions. A festive, holiday wreath smelling of fresh pine encircled the metallic numbers emblazoned on the door. They matched the ones on the back of the card still clutched in Lance’s palm.

Next thing he knew, Lance was lifting his hand to knock. 

 

_Pound. Pound. Pound._

“LANCE!” 

Keith slammed his fist into Hunk’s front door then furiously rang the doorbell again.

“LANCE! OPEN UP! JUST TALK TO ME. PLEASE… LANCE!”

_Pound. Pound. Pound._

Pidge stepped off the porch into the bushes to peer through the living room windows.

“Keith…”

“LANCE!” 

_Pound. Pound. Pound._

“Keith!”

 _Ding-dong. Ding-dong. Ding-dong._

“KEITH!”

“WHAT!” He exploded at her. “Sorry…” He calmed himself as best he could.

“I don’t think he’s here.”

A different set of panicked emotions began to set in.

“Well, then... Where the hell is he?”

 

 

Lance held his breath, waiting. A long minute went by but the door remained unanswered. He wet his lips and wondered briefly if maybe they were thick and he hadn’t knocked hard enough. Hesitantly, he raised his fist and knocked again with more conviction.

 

Alone in his luxurious suite, Lotor was supposed to be working. A stack of papers sat at the side of his desk and a number of open files went ignored on his laptop screen. Instead, he sat happily watching his warehouses burn on a local news stream in an apparent ‘electrical fire’. A black cat perched on the side of his desk, purring and affectionately squinting her eyes at him.

“You see that, Kova? Zarkon played right into our hands.” He tickled the cat’s chin. “Just wait until daddy dearest sees what’s coming next.” His lip twisted smugly. Pissing his father off was the only thing that seemed to bring him any joy these days.

A soft knocking interrupted his concentration. He glanced around at the unoccupied, still room. Suspecting he was hearing things, he shook his head and went back to following the news report.

Another knocking sound a few minutes later. Definitely from the door. His eyes narrowed skeptically. No one ever knocked, certainly not Acxa and she was the only person he was expecting.

Growing concerned and knowing Zarkon was on the prowl, he flipped to his security camera feed and nearly fell out of his chair when he saw who it was knocking at his door.

 

 

Pidge began picking up everything on the front porch. The doormat, the potted plants, Hunk’s rain boots.

“What the hell are you doing?” Keith asked, thoroughly confused.

“Looking for a spare key. There’s gotta be one around here somewhere…” She went for a festive Santa statue next.

Keith was annoyed. A key wasn’t going to help them if Lance wasn’t there.

_If Lance wasn’t there…_

The thought echoed in his mind.

If he wasn’t there, then…

Keith’s heart pounded in his chest, then thudded in his throat. It crept all the way up until it pulsed in his ears.

“Pidge… You don’t think he’s-” A chill passed through him. “You don’t think he’s with someone else, do you?” His panicked eyes fell on his friend.

Pidge froze on her hands and knees where she was searching the underside of a porch bench.

“Well, he was alone when I saw him leaving…” 

Her tone did not instill a sense of confidence.

“Oh my god… Oh my god, no!” Keith turned and leaned against the front door and slowly sunk to the ground.

Lance was...

“Oh my god…” He whispered again, crumpling as though in physical pain. He draped his forearms across his knees and buried his face in them.

“Would you stop being so dramatic?” Pidge griped and kept searching. “It’s been like five minutes. Even Lance isn’t that good!”

 

 

Several more minutes had gone by but the door still hadn’t opened. Lance was becoming increasingly irked. Abandoning all shyness, he pounded with the hammer-end of a closed fist. He rattled the handle, tried to shove it open with his shoulder. His foot even left a black scuff mark about a foot up from the floor. 

 

Still at his desk, Lotor cocked his head and raised his eyebrows, watching his front door shake. A picture frame to the side of it fell off the wall and cracked on the ground. Surprised, eager, and mildly concerned though he was, Lotor took his time, lifting a glass of fine scotch to his lips then pointedly set it back down. He leaned back in his chair, interleaved his fingers in his lap, and turned his attention back to the door, curious just how much spunk his unanticipated visitor had in him.

 

Heaving half from frustration and half from exertion, Lance had worked up a sweat but the door remained stubbornly closed. Mentally declaring _fuck this_ , he flipped the door and its cheery wreath the bird, gave it one more solid kick, and took off down the hall.

He hadn’t gone more than five paces when there was a click in the lock behind him. He stopped and looked over his shoulder, and slowly, one side of the double doors finally opened.

Just a crack at first. A single eye peered out at him but it set Lance’s body alight with goosebumps. The door swung back further and Lance’s breath shallowed as he stared up at the tall, intimidating figure that had answered.

They gazed at each other without speaking, stunned surprise on one end and fearless determination on the other. The man across the threshold looked down at the marks left on his door then back at the apparent vandal in his hallway. He opened his mouth to form a question but failed to produce any words.

Lance held up the crumpled business card between two fingers in answer.

The man’s eyes flitted to it then honed in on its holder. Stepping to the side, he pulled the door fully open, granting passage to his guest, if he so chose.

Wordlessly and without taking his wary eyes off the man in the doorway, Lance accepted the hospitality and stepped inside.

 

 

“Aha!” Pidge cried victoriously having found a spare key taped to the inside of the letter box. She picked the tape and some lint off it before she noticed the state her friend was in.

In a crumpled heap, Keith was openly crying on Hunk’s doorstep. 

“Whoa, hey…” Pidge came to his side and slowly sat next to him. She tried to put her arm around his shoulders but he wouldn’t accept her sympathy. 

Keith had never cried in front of Pidge before but he didn’t care. There was a good chance his worst nightmare was happening and he couldn’t even argue that he didn’t deserve it.

“You know what? I bet he’s just driving around somewhere…” She tried to encourage him. “Singing along to some angsty tunes and thinking about-” 

“Driving what, Pidge? I have the car!”

“Oh…” She frowned.

“Well then, maybe he’s at a bar getting drunk or something. That’s kinda Lance’s MO when he’s in a mood, right?”

“Getting drunk and picking up girls…” Keith sulked, wiping his eyes on the back of his sleeves.

Pidge’s brow creased pensively.

“Okay, let’s assume the worst.” She clapped her hands enthusiastically, ready to logic her way through it. “Let’s say he _is_ with someone else...”

“Pidge! Can you not right now?” Keith gripped his knees and balled up tighter. Just the thought of it was tearing his insides apart.

“Because let’s be real here, Keith... Lance hooking up with someone else is a reality you might have to prepare yourself for.”

He looked at her forlorn, on the edge of tears again.

“Pidge, I- I can’t… I don’t think I could handle seeing or knowing that he-” He shook his head, begging for anything but that. 

“In all fairness, Keith...” She adjusted her glasses with a shade of judgement. “Isn’t that exactly what you did to him?”

Keith gaped at her and couldn't find the words to argue. Embarrassed and mortified at his own hypocrisy, he threw his face in his hands. Never in his entire adult life had he wanted to die more than in that moment.

“Did that seriously never occur to you?!” Pidge was scathing.

“No, it did, I just-” He groaned helplessly.

“Keith... Out of curiosity, why the hell did you do it?” She continued to grill him.

“I-” Keith pulled his fingers down from his face and let his gaze wander through the dark shadows in front of them, searching for an answer. He shook his head as he came up empty-handed. “I just didn't think.” He thunked his head back against the door and stared into the clear, starry sky overhead. “I don't really have a good excuse.”

“That’s not a very good answer,” Pidge snorted but at least gave him credit for the honesty. She joined him in staring at the stars.

“You know I was learning Spanish for him?”

“For Lance?”

Keith nodded.

“He didn’t know though. It was supposed to be his Christmas present. I was getting kind of good too.”

“Wow, that’s actually really sweet. Lance would have loved it.” Pidge came around to sympathy and suddenly she shared a fraction of Keith’s sadness.

“I know he would have.” Keith covered his eyes again and pinched his lips together. 

Pidge watched him fight not to cry.

“Keith… Are you in love with him? Shiro, I mean...”

There was a shuffling sound as Keith shook his head against the door. “At least, I don’t think so. Which probably only makes it worse.” He acknowledged with a grimace.

“Little bit.” Pidge agreed.

“God, I really fucked this up...” Keith kicked his legs out straight and let his arms go limp at his sides.

“Yeah, you kinda did.” She was more critical than sympathetic. “But, I’m sorry, Keith. I really am.” She put her arm around her friend whether he wanted it or not. “And look, even if the worst does happen…” Keith shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to think about the inevitable. “It’s not like it’s going to mean anything. He really does love you. I don’t think a one-off night with some rando can compete with that.”

“Really?” Keith looked at her doubtful, remembering how fast Lance used to fall for the girls he brought home in college.

“Really.” She assured him. “But I’m just saying, you might have to let him have this one. Or two, or… five.”

“ _FIVE?!_ ” Keith was a fast breath away from hyperventilating.

“Calm the fuck down, you dramatic baby! It’s just meaningless sex! It’s not like they’re gonna share a history like you guys do!”

 

 

“Well, this sure is nicer than your old place.” Not standing on ceremony, Lance marched right past the still-shocked man in the entryway and proceeded to make himself at home. 

“Garrison boy… You’re… here.” The man breathed, unable to believe his eyes.

“Sure am.” Lance replied with a sassy confidence only copious amounts of alcohol could inspire. He took a gander around the spacious hotel suite before setting off to explore. 

Following a wall as he crossed the room, he dragged his finger across the width of an oil painting, leaving it askew, then checked himself out in a large mirror that hung next to it. He wobbled as he turned on his heels and nearly knocked over a side-table and a lamp on his way to a collection of couches and chairs in another corner of the room. The man trailed behind him, righting the disarray left in his visitor’s wake.

“Or maybe you had this place all along. I wouldn't know, would I?” Lance snarked and plonked his keister down in the plushiest armchair of the bunch. Tucking his arms behind his head, he kicked his legs over the side of it and shot his host a scornful look.

The man blinked not quite sure what to make of it.

“Wow, this looks expensive.” Lance leaned backwards and one-handedly picked up a piece of abstract pottery that might have been a vase off the side table.

“Ah- Don’t touch that!”

“Oh, my bad.”

The man caught it just as Lance practically dropped it back onto the table. The vase was settled safely back in place, and the man turned to consider his visitor.

“How did you get past security?”

“What security?” Lance snorted then launched himself out of the armchair and began inspecting the large, mahogany liquor cabinet next.

The man rubbed his brow watching as his long-awaited Garrison boy made a mess mixing himself a cocktail. The initial excitement at his unexpected guest was beginning to wear off. It seemed he had more of a Garrison brat on his hands.

In tandem with that thought, Lance managed to elbow a metallic tray holding an arrangement of glasses. They tumbled to the floor, shattering loudly on the hard tile. The man grit his teeth with irritation. They’d been crystal.

“Oops…” Hardly apologetic, Lance stopped long enough to observe the pile of shards on the floor then went back to what he was doing.

The man’s annoyance peaked when, sans glasses, Lance tried to drink straight from one of the bottles.

“Stop that.” He yanked the bottle away before it got to his mouth. “Did you come here just to be a nuisance?”

“No, I came here because I am having a shit night!” Lance declared and proceeded to pour himself a generous helping of another top shelf liquor into a mixing vessel that made a perfectly good cup.

“Is that what prompted you to get in a fight with my front door?”

“Jeez… ‘scuse me for trying to see you. I thought it’s what you wanted.”

The man’s eyes narrowed, trying to figure out what his angle was. 

“Really, Lance…” He gently took the new bottle from Lance’s hand and set it down on the mahogany. “Why are you here?”

“Why do you think?” Full of attitude, Lance spun around to face him. “So we can get drunk, shoot the shit and have a good time! Maybe bang one out like the old days.” His voice dripped with sarcasm and rage. “Or maybe…” Some of his anger fell away. “Maybe I just need someone to fuck me up.” And a shade of truth crept in. “You were always good at that.”

The dig was not lost on its target. The man’s mouth pulled into a thin line. His hands that had been hovering inches outside his visitor’s frame, too afraid to touch, retreated and he stepped back.

“You need to leave.”

“Pfff, figures.” Lance scoffed at the rejection. “You never really wanted me either.” He pouted against the liquor cabinet and made no indication that he intended to go.

Lotor opened his mouth to reply just how categorically untrue that statement was but thought better of it.

“I’m serious. Go home, Garrison boy. I’m not interested in being your punching bag.” Lotor opened the door and gestured for him to be on his way.

Lance still didn’t move.

“I was serious too.” His tone shifted, becoming openly vulnerable, sincere. “Fuck me up. Make me forget… all of it!" His eyes pleaded with the man he'd come to see. "You always used to know exactly what I needed and right now I’m so lost that I don’t even know what I need. So please… Just-” He stumbled towards the man.

The man caught Lance’s wrist by his chin as he reached for him.

“You’re drunk.”

“Maybe…” Lance flashed a faint but cheeky grin. “But not so drunk that I don't know _exactly_ what I'm asking for.” 

The grip on his wrist tightened as Lance stepped even closer. His free arm draped over the man’s shoulder, pulling him in by the back of the neck. 

“Come on Silver, you didn’t text me all those years for nothing. This is your chance.” 

The man resisted but Lance held on pulling their mouths closer. 

“Give me what I need...” 

 

 

Pidge and Keith had let themselves into the house to use the bathroom and were standing in the living room when Hunk arrived home very surprised to discover that, apparently, he had company.

“Hunk… hi,” Keith greeted his perplexed friend in his own entryway. “We, uh... broke into your house,” he announced remorsefully.

“Well, we didn’t so much break in as… I found your spare key.” Pidge grinned sheepishly and handed it back to him.

“Of course you did,” Hunk sighed and made his way inside. Shiro appeared in the entryway behind him and Pidge’s face immediately soured.

“What the hell is he doing here?”

“Oh… Well, I’m a little drunk so… he drove me,” Hunk explained apologetically then wondered why he was apologizing for who he brought into his own house.

“Wow, good job, Shiro. Way to be the responsible one!” Pidge awarded him with a mocking slow clap.

Shiro sighed tiredly at her snark. “Did you find him?” He asked the rest of the room, namely Keith.

“No. He’s not here,” Keith answered.

“I see…” 

The others discussed places Lance might be. Meanwhile, Shiro picked up a newspaper off the coffee table in front of Lance’s nest on the couch. _Good Guy Galra? Can he be trusted?_ read the headline on the front page and there was a picture of a long-haired man in front of a microphone to go with it. Every instance of the initials LSD and some other things had been underlined in the article and Shiro had a horrible feeling…

“Hey, guys…” He started.

“Quit touching Lance's stuff!” Pidge quickly snatched the newspaper from him.

“Sorry…” He held up his hands in apology then turned to Keith. “Come on, Keith. I can take you home.” It was a veiled excuse. He didn’t want to discuss Lance’s potential whereabouts in front of the others.

“Um, I’m good.” Keith stepped away, shrugging off the familiar hand that had been placed on his shoulder. “I think I’m gonna wait here for a while.”

“Want me to stay with you?” Shiro offered.

“No, he doesn’t.” Pidge answered for him.

Shiro looked at her then back at the person he’d directed the question to. “Keith?”

“We got it, Shiro. Thank you for the ride.” Hunk gently touched his back and politely directed him towards the door.

Shiro looked around the room. It was clear none of them wanted him there. He tried one more time to tell Keith something with his eyes, but Keith promptly looked away.

“Alright, as long as your good...”

Shiro’s disappointment stung, but Keith brushed it off.

“Yep. I’m good,” he said without making eye contact.

“He’s good.” Pidge reiterated. “We’re _all_ good.” She gestured at the door again.

With one more unreceived look at Keith, Shiro turned to leave. 

“Bye, Felicia.” Pidge jabbed while Shiro slowly closed the door behind him. From the way it jolted as it swung shut, it was obvious he heard.

“Easy, Pidge,” Hunk warned her once he was gone.

“What?” She remained defiant.

Keith agreed that she was being a little harsh, but he was too preoccupied with his own emotions to feel bad for Shiro. A nervous wreck, Keith parked himself on the edge of the couch, prepared to wait there until Lance came home.

 

 

The seal was broken, and the man’s mouth crashed into Lance’s again and again and again. An affected puff of air hit against the Garrison boy’s lips when they broke momentarily and Lance barely had time to catch his breath before he was being kissed again with such fervor and intensity that there was no doubt in his mind that he was wanted. Something in him swooned and he fell into it.

His already unbuttoned shirt was pushed back over his arms and discarded to the floor for the second time that day. The man pushed Lance up against a nearby countertop then lifted him onto it. Lance’s legs and arms wrapped around him and, a hurried moment of clashing tongues and teeth later, he was hoisted from the counter and carried to the bedroom like that.

 

Moments later, horizontal and sideways on the bed, the man was on top of him, kissing him just as hungrily, but in the dark, shadowy room, the situation was catching up to Lance fast. Memories of Empire G flashed in his mind, brought on by the darkness and unfamiliar surroundings. He pulled away for a moment and touched his head, feeling rather dizzy.

“Hey, can we turn on a light or something…” 

The man flipped a switch and a faint, warm glow came from a light-up salt rock on his bedside table. Though it was barely brighter than a nightlight, Lance could at least make out shapes in his immediate vicinity and, with a four-poster bed, a large wardrobe, and other ostentatious furniture, the spacious room and attached bath was solidly _not_ Empire G.

“You always did want to get outside that backroom we shared, didn’t you.” The man crooned almost flirtily coming back on top of him again.

“I- I did, but…” Lance shied away from his touch.

“You’re afraid.” The man frowned.

“No, I’m not.” Lance reflexively denied it. 

“Rule number one, Garrison boy. Don’t lie to me!” But it was more of an ask than a command.

“Is that what you want? For me to be scared of you? Because I’m _not_. I’m _not_ scared of you anymore.” Lance sat up to be eye-to-eye with him.

The man caught his face in his hands. 

“It was _never_ my goal for you to be afraid of me.”

Lance stared into the man’s face, confused while soft thumbs caressed his cheeks. He became even more so when the softest kiss was planted on his lips and its encore on the tip of his nose.

“Don’t do that!” Lance shook himself free but gentle hands still loosely framed his cheeks.

“Do what?” The man smirked playfully.

“Be so… I don’t know, _nice_ to me! I asked you to fuck me up!!”

“Lance…” The man tilted his head slyly. “What makes you think I’m not?” A trail of warm kisses that left him shivering were placed down Lance’s neck.

Lance had come expecting roughness and aggression, to be edged endlessly, or choked within an inch of his life, not to be treated with such _tenderness._ And gradually, as something in him melted under the man’s touch, he understood which had the power to destroy him more.

“Garrison boy…” The man spoke the nickname from his neck, making goosebumps break down his arms. “I promise to do what you asked of me, but I have a request for you too.”

“Okay…”

“Call me by my name.”

“L-Lotor?”

“Not that one.”

“S… Sil…” Lance suddenly found himself tongue-tied.

“You said it before in the foyer.” The man coaxed, nuzzling the slope of his neck and continuing with his mouth along a collarbone. “Come on, Garrison boy. What’s my name?”

“Sil-” Lance’s chin tilted upwards, breath stuttering as the man’s tongue dipped into the notch between his collarbones. The gentle kisses and light sucking continued to the other side where the slight pressure of teeth was applied against the sensitive skin of his neck.

Lance moaned, almost relaxing into it, but still couldn't say it.

Sharp eyes flashed and a nip - sudden and hard - broke the skin.

“Silver!” Lance jolted and was left clutching the man’s biceps, breathing hard.

“There it is.” He soothed the spot his teeth had marked with a lengthy kiss.

“Silver...” Lance said it again with more confidence. It felt familiar on his tongue. Their eyes met and Lance tentatively tangled his fingers in the pearly strands at either side of his head, experimenting with how much trust he could place in him.

“My Garrison boy...” The man’s features softened unexpectedly. He kissed the wrists at either side of his head then leaned into one of Lance’s palms. “I’m so very glad you came back.”

Rendered speechless by the display, the ice on a long-hidden part of Lance’s heart fractured, unleashing a deep-seated, terrifying hurt but an even more powerful relief with it.

Watching the emotions pass over his Garrison boy’s face, the man leaned forward and went for his lips. But Lance, still skittish, pulled away. 

“Trust me, Lance...”

“You understand why that’s hard right?” Lance snapped, killing the moment.

Lotor’s brow creased furtively. He stepped back off the bed.

“Hey, wait... I didn’t mean-”

But instead of leaving or kicking him out like Lance thought he was going to, the man turned and deliberately stood before him. Sweeping his hair to one side, he peeled his already open shirt back over his shoulders and, making a show of it, let it fall softly to the floor behind him. For a brief moment a pair of muscular shoulders were silhouetted in the room’s large window, and Lance caught himself holding his breath.

Keeping his chin low, the man known as Silver cast a sultry look up at his singular audience and smirked subtly when he saw his little show was having the desired effect.

He stepped out of his pants next, picking up the discarded fabric as he returned upright. After dramatically casting the garments aside to be with his shirt, he struck an understated yet prideful pose and, like that, stood naked and fully exposed before the man on the bed.

“Whoa…” Lance breathed, a little dumbfounded, his eyes feasting on the form before him. It occurred to him that though they’d been repeatedly intimate, he had never actually seen this man naked. 

Lance noted the silver studs on either side of his chest with an impressed flick of his brows.

“Those are new.” He giggled at the piercings.

The man smirked and began stroking himself, drawing attention to the other thing he wanted Lance to see.

“Oh, wow… O-Okay…” Lance’s eyes went wide at the metal rod through the head of his cock and the hat trick of smaller studs that dotted the underside of his shaft.

“Th-Those are new too...” He gulped.

Smirking even more the man climbed back onto the bed and began to crawl on top of him, but Lance’s eyes didn’t move from that first piece of metal. 

“Whoa, h-hang on a second.” Lance held him off at arm’s length. “Is that thing gonna hurt?”

“No,” the man replied. “But you’ll feel it.”

Lance wasn’t sure he believed him.

“Garrison boy...” The man’s fingers tilted Lance’s chin upwards, lifting his gaze back to his face. “Trust me.”

“Okay…”

Lance lay back, chest heaving with nervousness as he let the man crawl on top of him. A black bottle of lube was retrieved from somewhere - Lance didn’t see where - and the man began to slather his studded cock with it.

Lance put his hands over his eyes, flinching while the man prepped him, and tried to chase away humiliating memories of the other time they’d fucked back at Empire G. Between haunted remembrances and the added hardware, Lance was a bag of nerves. But he’d asked for it. He’d asked to be fucked up…

His hips were lifted and, feeling the man’s cock press against him, Lance braced against the mattress. He gasped softly as it started to slip inside. His eyes pinched shut and he tensed, prepared for it to hurt, but strangely… it didn’t. 

A warm rush swept over him instead, making him feel lightheaded and ten times more drunk than he was. Lance’s head rolled back and he moaned softly relaxing into it.

The man's hips hit flush. Once... Twice... Thrice…

“Shit. Oh, shit… That’s good…” Lance breathed, a firm pressure building inside him. Toes curling, he dug his heels into the sheets so he could move with him.

“Fuck… Silver- oh, fu-” His words were muffled against the man's broad shoulders. 

The sound of a four-poster bed frame rocking and fast breath filled the room.

Lance's head rolled to the side completely overwhelmed as long strands of ghostly white hair fell over him, tickling his hypersensitive skin. Soft kisses and audible gasps from the man above him filled the rest of his sensory space. And with the man's cock gliding smoothly into him, hitting him in all the right places, it was… 

It was…...

It was everything he’d ever wanted from this man. Everything he’d ever sought from the Silver he visited at Empire G was pulled from the far reaches of Lance's imagination and thrust forth into his tangible reality.

“Silver!” He cried and threw his arms around the man above him. His hands came up to frame the face from his past, unable to believe it was true. The crystal blue eyes gazing back at him reflected his nostalgia.

Silver hair pooled at his sides as the man swooped down to kiss him.

“Garrison boy… You really came back,” he whispered against his lips.

“I did…” Lance smiled softly.

Their tongues clashed passionately and his hands clawed at the man’s back, an urgency rising within him. 

“Shit, Silver-” Lance wrapped his legs around the man’s body, yielding full control to him. Until finally, wrapped in Silver’s strong arms, Lance lost himself in an indescribable moment that struck a chord in him so deep it had the scared, heartbroken seventeen year-old trapped inside him crying out in bitter ecstasy.

Short of breath, he collapsed limply against the bed after, loosely clinging to the man above him, stunned and overcome with emotions because after seven long years, he’d finally had his night with Silver.

“Why…” Lance gasped into his hair. “Why didn’t you do it that way before…”

“Garrison boy…” The man soothed him with soft kisses and a softer voice.

“Why…” The whisper verged on a sob and he clung to the man tightly.

“Shh, it was worth the wait, was it not?” The man continued to placate him. Meanwhile, his hand kept stroking.

“Ah, hey… I’m good.” Lance grasped his wrist when it started to hurt.

“We’re not finished yet, Garrison boy.” Lance tensed at the inkling of danger in his voice.

“O-Okay...” Lance winced under his hand. “But it usually takes me a while to-” 

“I think you're ready now.”

Lance blinked in the dimly lit room, a familiar out-of-his-depth feeling creeping over him.

The man shifted to press a button on his smartwatch and that’s when Lance felt it.

Slowly, at first, and then with growing intensity, something took a hold of him. His low stomach sucked in and his limbs began to tremble.

“What the fuck, ah-” Lance’s mouth dropped open with a cry. His body lurched with an unimaginably intense wave of pleasure that left him clinging to the man’s shoulders.

Something was _vibrating_ inside him.

“I told you you’d feel it.” The man pulled back to watch and kept sliding his length into him at slow but steady pace.

Lance’s eyes widened as the vibrations intensified and the man, too, began to look affected.

With a muffled ‘oh shit’, Lance clasped a hand over his mouth for fear he wasn’t going to be able to control his volume.

Lotor pulled the hand from his face and Lance moaned loudly. Seconds later, nearly every muscle in his body tensed. His back arched wildly against the sheets.

“Ay, por dios… Pero- Que caraj-” Barely even half hard yet with orgasm threatening to rip through him again, Lance’s mother-tongue began to tumble out his mouth. He nearly squirmed to get off the man’s cock; The sensation almost too much for him. And then, with a sudden, full-body shudder, it hit him all at once. Body pulling tight and mind incapable of coherent thoughts, cum started to leak from his semi-hard cock. 

And it didn’t stop.

Hit with another wave of it, a steady stream continued to pour onto his stomach while he convulsed beneath the man and all Lance could do was hold on to the forearms planted at either side of his head and try to breathe through it.

There was a merciful lull in whatever pattern was programmed into that whirring contraption.

“Wha- what are you doing to me…” Lance gasped weakly.

“Exactly what you asked me to.” The man rasped back, face straining just before the vibrations heightened again and sent both their bodies jerking.

Lance's head rolled back with a silent scream, no air left in his lungs to cry out as he came yet again, and this time, finding a pleasure of his own, the man joined him. Rough breath and sweet murmurings fell into the Garrison boy’s ear until finally the vibrating ceased. Lance’s vision blurred as the man pulled back and flipped his hair over his shoulder, winded.

Dazed and drained, Lance’s splayed fingers reached for him, reached for his Silver. The silhouette above him drifted in and out of focus but his unsteady, weakened hand still found his face.

“Sil- ver...” Fingertips drifted into fine hair. He managed to push a swathe of it back from the man’s face just before his hand fell limp to the mattress below, because with eyelids heavy and not an ounce of energy left in him, Lance had finally passed out.

 

Silken sheets were tucked tight around a thin, brown-haired man who was fast asleep, completely tuckered out from the evening’s exertions. The other man in the room smiled serenely at the sleeping form in his bed before slipping on a robe and quietly taking his leave. He paused in the doorway gazing once more at the slumbering man and proudly pushed his hair back from his face.

“Welcome back, my Garrison boy,” he said softly. “Saturdays were always our night.” He added smugly before vacating the room and shutting the door tightly behind him.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Somebody acts out: **Keith**  
>  \- Somebody gets the cold shoulder: **Shiro**  
>  \- Somebody hooks up: **Lance/Lotor** ( _So many of you voted for 'no one bc Enjay is evil'! WTH!?_ )  
> \- Explicit rating: **unlocked**
> 
> I can’t believe I kept Lotor having a dick piercing secret for an _entire fucking year._ I’m actually kind of proud of myself. 
> 
> Hopefully that last part wasn’t too rough for you. My Lancelot can be a bit... intense. It’s supposed to feel a little fucked up. Thanks to theonemaye for helping with the Spanish!
> 
>  **Top of my Lancelot playlist:**  
>  * _Dangerously_ by Charlie Puth  
>  * _All You Had To Do Was Stay_ by Taylor Swift (but that's more PGFR Lance)  
>  * _New Rules_ by Dua Lipa (also PGFR Lance)
> 
> Ha....... I’M NOT AT ALL NERVOUS FOR YOUR REACTIONS *SWEATS PROFUSELY* >_>
> 
>  
> 
> Next Chapter: **A Silver Lining**
> 
> Also, _holy heck _I finished this behemoth-of-a-chapter-that-became-two in time to actually _enjoy_ NYCC!! If you're going, find me and say hi! :D__


	10. A Silver Lining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance wakes up in Lotor's bed and ends up learning a lot more about the mysterious silver-haired man from his past.
> 
> Meanwhile, poor Keith is still waiting for Lance to come home...  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An update in less than two week!? We're on a roll!
> 
> But on a more serious note, my health might be crapping out again... I'll know in a week or so if I'm in for another three month of being bedridden. -_- (It won't affect my update schedule either way. It's actually easier to write when I'm ill, not that I'm wishing for that. ^^;;)  
> But for now, please enjoy this chapter and leave me some nice comments with your reactions, thoughts, criticisms, incoherent yellings, Enjay what the fucks, etc. I could use all the motivation I can get right now. 
> 
> Thank you for continuing to be excited about this story! It really means so much to me! <3
> 
> Art since last time! [A full on COMIC of chapter 8](https://enjayas.tumblr.com/post/179094577904/please-responsibly) by TorturedAngel
> 
> Once again, TheOneMaye/LostInTranslation helped me with the Spanish!

LSD: _Generals, assemble 0900 hours._  
LSD: _Concerning GB. Major developments!_

  


Private chat.

nartnart--: _...??_  
LezzyEzzy: _the hell is GB?_  
battleacxa: _He means the Garrison boy._  
LezzyEzzy: _now? is he serious??_  
LezzyEzzy: _we are actively being attacked!!_  
TheMuscle: _Zarkon is literally burning down our supply stores and he’s thinking about his dumb crush?_  
TheMuscle: _He’s finally lost his mind._  
nartnart--: _^_  
LezzyEzzy: _damn, acxa. you were right..._  
battleAcxa: _Enough is enough. This has to stop. Are you all with me?_  
TheMuscle: _Affirmative_  
nartnart--: _*thumbs up*_  
LezzyEzzy: _guess I’m caving to peer pressure..._  
battleAcxa: _Good. Let’s deal with Zarkon first then rendezvous in the hall to formulate a plan._  
LezzyEzzy: _are we staging a coup?_  
battleAcxa: _Not exactly, but the Garrison boy distraction ends tonight._  
battleAcxa: _One way or another we are cutting him off for good._

  


  


Lance came to several hours later and didn't immediately know where he was, and for a blissful moment, he was too cozy to care. Enveloped in luxurious sheets and, not lying, but floating on the most comfortable, cloud-like mattress he'd ever rested upon, Lance had just experienced the best sleep of his life. The softest pillow that was just the right temperature - not too hot and not too cold - was cradling his head. He moaned sleepily and curled his legs together as he shifted onto his side. The sheets pulled with him and were unimaginably smooth against his skin. 

His naked skin. 

Naked. 

Lance was naked.

He sat up fast, remembering…

Hurriedly glancing around the the definitely-not-Empire-G room, Lance quickly ascertained that, much to his relief, he was alone. But he hadn’t been hours prior. His memory came back in flashes. He laid back with a mildly distressed hand to his forehead while he pieced it all together.

Well, that had happened...

He didn’t really know what else to say about it. Though in his defense, it had been almost two months since he’d been with anyone, so it wasn’t like he wasn’t overdue for it. But if he was being honest, it had been rather... _nice._ Unexpectedly so. Sinking into the heavenly mattress again, Lance couldn't help but notice how relaxed he was, his body sated in a way he wasn’t sure it ever had been before, and there was a stillness in him so deep it reached the level of his soul. Even the endless chatter and continuous humming of various anxieties that were always on the cusp of his mind had been silenced. Lance hated to admit it, but his long-awaited night with Silver had quite possibly been the best sex of his life.

His eyelids fluttered shut in a rare moment of mental quiet and he started to drift off again. Suddenly he remembered that he'd been dreaming. Dreaming quite a lot. And his dreams... They'd been rather heated. But it hadn't been the silver-haired man he'd come to see that had starred in them. Nor had it been Keith. No, it had been... 

...Shiro. 

Some of the mental chatter returned while hazy images and remembered sensations flashed in his mind. Of being cradled protectively in Shiro’s arms on a dark roadside while his face pressed into a sturdy chest. Of a scratchy cheek grazing his jawline and a soft but mischievously whispered _‘should we?’_ Of being held up against the back of a bathroom door while steamy, thick air filled his lungs and fogged up the mirror. Of breath echoing in a small bathroom and Shiro grunting his name behind him. His mind twisted and embellished actual events in a way that made Lance's stomach turn. 

And on that note, he knew that no matter how comfortable the bed, he wasn't going to be able to go back to sleep. 

Heaving himself upright, he chalked the guilt-ridden visions up to a comment Keith had made the previous evening before the party. Lance put it out of mind and began searching for his clothes in the dimly lit room. He didn’t have to look far. They’d been laid out for him, neatly folded and waiting at the end of the bed. His phone, too, rested squarely atop the pile. 

Lance went for his device first and discovered it was earlier than he thought. Barely after 2am. He hadn’t slept through the night after all. What was stranger, though, was that in the mix of missed calls and unread texts from Pidge and Hunk, there was also one from Shiro.

Shiro: I know I’m not your favorite person right now, but please… Just tell me you’re okay.

Lance snorted at the audacity and wondered if Keith had been at his side when he’d sent it. Still, it was the only one of a deluge of notifications he actually checked. But he didn’t respond to it nor pay it much mind because something else had distracted him: His shirt was missing from the pile of clothes.

 

Lotor was in the main room busily typing away at his desk, humming softly and muttering under his breath to the snoozing cat curled up in his lap. He’d been at it for hours. Intently focused and plowing through task after task, he was the apotheosis of productivity, perhaps aided by the thin white lines of a powdery substance on a metal tray beside his laptop.

“Lotor!” His front door burst open. Cova’s head popped up, startled by the noise. Acxa marched across the room with vicious determination. Zethrid and Narti flanked her sides, looking equally serious.

“Go ahead, come right in…” Lotor grumbled at the interruption and soothed the awoken creature in his lap. The cat yawned, stretching her legs out before curling up again.

“Yo, what the hell happened to your door?” Ezor asked as she brought up the rear.

“The Garrison boy? Really?” Acxa got right to the point and dropped her phone with Lotor’s message open on his desk. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“Listen, Lotor…” Ezor tried to be nicer about it. “We’re all a little worried that-”

“Stop babying him!” Acxa snapped. “Lotor, you’ve been completely checked out. You’re behind in every possible way and we all know the reason why.”

“Is this some sort of intervention?” The supposed leader sat back in his chair, most perturbed. 

“If it has to be!” She snarled. “Our warehouses were just burned to the ground. You lost men! And _this_ is what’s on your mind?” She gestured at the message on her screen.

“Please. Those warehouses were stocked with faux product. We lost nothing.” Lotor countered her concerns. “And I know exactly who I staffed to guard it. They were meant to be lost.”

“Be that as it may, your lack of concern here is telling. We have to at least keep up appearances that we are running a business and you haven’t signed off on a single report in weeks!”

Lotor presented her with a stack of documents. 

“And what about the expansion proposal? Have you even started?”

Lotor pressed a key. “Check your email.”

“And you’ve paid no mind to our recovery efforts.” 

His eyes narrowed.

“Had you bothered to check before dishing out such accusations, you’d see that sentries have been deployed and are currently pretending to scour the wreckage as though we incurred actual damage.”

“I checked right before- When did you-” Acxa glanced at a tablet Narti showed her with the location and activity of their troops. She blinked at him when she saw he was right.

“Another squadron has been tasked with surveilling the surrounding areas in case the assailants return.” He didn’t stop. “A third is performing reconnaissance, and _I_ am currently formulating our next plan of attack against what remains of the former Galra empire and Zarkon’s rapidly diminishing forces.” He bridged his fingers over the desk and rested his chin on them, smiling almost mockingly. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“I see you’ve decided to be productive.” Acxa sneered, eyeing the powder next to his laptop. She snatched the stack of papers off his desk and began to glance over them. They were good, annoyingly so. She peered at him carefully, irritated that he always managed to deliver at the last possible moment. “Regardless of this recent productivity spree,” she continued. “Calling late-night, supposedly urgent meetings over the Garrison boy when we are actively under attack is nothing but a distraction, frivolous, and frankly, irresponsible.” She was as ruthless as she dared be. “I won’t stand for it any longer. We are _finished_ with that project. I, for one, have run out of patience.”

Lotor sat back, considering her a long moment while tapping his finger against the desk. He waited for cracks in her bravery to show.

“I agree, Acxa,” he finally said. “It is time to abandon our four-pillared plan.”

Confusion and then relief flooded Acxa’s features and those of the generals behind her. “It’s good to see you’ve come around to the side of reason, Sir.” She tapped the stack of reports on his desk to straighten them out.

“I assure you reason had nothing to do with it.” Her leader rested his temple against a single fingertip, lip curling smugly. “I’ve simply won.”

She tilted her head, suspicious.

At that moment, a door creaked open behind them, making the already on-edge generals about-face fast with their weapons drawn, ready to strike.

“Hey, Silver, have you seen my, uh… shirt?” Naked from the waist up and with his suit jacket folded over one arm, Lance froze two paces into the main room when there were several more pairs of eyes _and weapons_ pointed at him than he’d been expecting.

“Who the hell are you! How did you get in here!” The first in command cried while Lance raised his arms for her to not shoot. 

“Hang on a second, is that…?” Zethrid pointed and gasped like he was a ghost.

Narti flailed too and began typing into her phone like mad.

Recognition crept over Acxa and she slowly lowered her weapon. “No… You’ve got to be kidding me!”

The room, save for Lotor, gaped at him. The dismayed Acxa most of all.

“Uh, h-hi. I’m… Lance?” He said with his arms still raised, not sure if he was supposed to introduce himself or…

“Oh, so _you’re_ Lance!” Ezor found her bearings first and approached him fast. She walked a full-circle around him. “You’re right. He is much cuter up close!” Lance cringed nervously as he was inspected and batted her hands away with a ‘hey!’ when she began poking and prodding him in various personal places.

Acxa turned back to her leader, astounded, furious, maybe even betrayed.

Lotor pointedly ignored her.

“Your shirt is exactly where you left it, darling,” he said in a tone so shockingly saccharine it gave the rest of the generals whiplash as they turned to gawk at him instead.

Lance gulped, and in front of an audience, walked over to where his button down lay in a rumpled heap near the counter. All eyes watched as he retrieved it from the floor.

“As you can see, my dear...” Lotor caught Acxa's reluctant eye. “Patience has paid off. Now if you’ll excuse me, my work is done and I’d like to enjoy the rest of my evening with my guest.”

“Y-Yes, sir.” Crestfallen, Acxa collected the documents from his desk and made a sullen exit. A trio of giggling generals followed behind her.

“Did you get a load of that mark on his neck?” “Right? I guess he really is a vampire.” Lance heard before the door shut completely and touched the spot on his neck where he’d been bitten, suddenly self-conscious.

“Wh- Who were they?” Lance asked when they were alone.

“My employees. Well, they’re more than that. Something of an inner circle, I suppose.”

Lance turned to him, stunned, not having expected an answer at all, never mind one so detailed. 

“Oh, uh… Sorry about your door.” He rubbed the back of his head nervously.

The man waved it off like it was of no consequence and didn’t take his eyes off him. 

Feeling rather exposed under that gaze, Lance slipped his shirt back on and buttoned it most of the way up. “Ah, okay. I guess- I guess I should get going.”

“If that’s what you want,” the man said. It wasn't phrased as a question, but it hung in the air with the quality of one.

“Um… You know, I’m not really…” Lance was too far into uncharted waters to know what to do.

“The night is young. Please, join me.” The man decided for him and gestured towards the arrangement of sofas where a serving tray was already set with glasses and an assortment of liquor. It was eerily familiar, but not having a good excuse to refuse, Lance carefully made his way to the sofas and took a seat on the far edge of one. Being more present of mind, he got a better look at the large hotel suite and everything about it screamed expensive. It was the sort of place that would usually make him afraid to touch anything. His hands stayed safely folded in his lap.

The man joined him in the middle seat and Lance watched as he poured them both drinks.

“Actually, could I just get some water?” Lance asked, feeling a tinge of a headache creeping around his temples. The man retrieved another glass and poured from a large silver pitcher instead.

“Tell me, Garrison boy…” The man began and set down the water in front of Lance. “When was it that you-”

“Um, can you not call me that?” Lance requested as he carefully picked up his glass.

“Garrison boy?” The man asked appearing confused as to why he might not like it.

“Yeah.”

“What would you like me to call you?”

“…Lance is fine,” he mumbled, fiddling with his drink. A reflective, metal tray was offered to him next. Lance’s eyes went wide at what appeared to be cocaine and he quickly declined as politely as he could.

“You speak Spanish.” The man observed, picking up his glass and casually imbibing.

“Huh? Oh! Yeah...” Lance blushed madly. “I’m Cuban.”

“¡Cubano! No tenía idea. Eres una caja llena de sorpresas.”

Lance was taken aback. “Espera un momento, ¡¿hablas español?!” 

“Lo hago, de hecho. Desde hace muchos años.” 

“Your accent is weird.” Lance almost cracked a smile.

“It’s European. I studied in Spain. Sixth form boarding school.”

Lance didn’t know what to say and so drank from his cup instead, aware that the man’s eyes were still on him.

“I was surprised you came to see me, you know.”

“Yeah, me too…” Lance clutched his cup, staring into the clear liquid.

“Especially since last I saw you you were happily engaged.”

“Ugh, yeah, that...” Lance slumped.

“Though I suppose I was hoping for a more amicable reacquaintance… You seemed rather upset, agitated...”

“Oh, I'm sorry, was it not exactly how you imagined it would be?” Lance hit him with a scowl.

“I see you’re still feisty.” Lotor chuckled when Lance folded his arms. “It’s alright. I like it.”

Lance scowled more.

“Well, my condolences all the same.” The man lifted his cup to his lips.

Lance’s face betrayed some of his sadness and regret.

“Yes, it’s difficult, isn’t it...” The man casually topped off both their glasses. “When one partner doesn’t pull their weight and is a financial drain on you. I’ve had to sever ties for similar reasons myself.”

Lance’s eyebrow twitched. “Wait, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Ah, was that not what- Remind me why you broke up again?”

“He cheated.” Lance took a hefty drink after the words tumbled out.

“Huh…” The man cocked his head and blinked into empty space. It wasn’t what he’d been expecting.

“And wait a second, how did you even know we broke up?” Lance asked.

“Ah, I…” Lotor was momentarily flustered. “Well, I suppose I assumed it to be the case. Since you ended up at my front door and in such a state.”

Lance eyed him skeptically but accepted the explanation.

“It's the holidays soon.” The man quickly changed to safer subjects. “I trust you'll be seeing your family. Will you be traveling to… Cuba, then?”

“Miami.” Lance corrected. “And yeah, I'm going home to see-“ He stopped. Why was he acting so familiar, telling this guy about his relationship woes, his holiday plans... 

“Is everything alright?” Lotor inquired.

“Yeah... I should probably get going.” Lance started to set down his glass but the man held up a finger for him to wait. 

“Before you do, I have something for you.” Lotor set his cup aside and retrieved something from a drawer in the side of the low table. “I believe these were erroneously taken from you.”

He set down a collection of items on the surface before his guest.

A wallet, an old phone, and a Garrison ID card. Lance recognized them instantly. He snatched the ID up fast, staring at it in disbelief. He reached for the phone next. It was cracked in the exact places he remembered.

“You… You kept them.” Lance marveled and brushed a finger over the familiar fissure in the phone’s screen. He looked questioningly at the man.

“I can assure you, I was not kind to the individuals who stole them.” His face flashed severe.

Speechless, Lance picked up the last item on the table. The faded wallet his dad had given him when he’d turned fifteen. He remembered the weight of it in his hand and the smell of worn leather brought up memories of simpler days back at the Garrison. He tucked his old ID into the wallet’s windowed slot, splayed it open, and used his thumbs to smooth the wrinkled plastic over his ID card, the very item that had caused everything to go so wrong that fateful night at Empire G...

His hand holding the wallet dropped into his lap, his emotions sinking with it. He let out a wry huff. It was an interesting gesture, but Lance wasn’t sure what good a seven-year old dinosaur of a smartphone, a long-since-replaced wallet, and an old high school ID were going to do him.

“I’ve been meaning to return them to you and I never managed to find the opportunity until-”

“There was an ice pack too,” Lance said curtly.

“I beg your pardon?”

“An ice pack.” The one Keith had given him for his bruised face before he’d left for his final visit to Empire G. Lance fixed the man with a look that was one shade below a glare.

“Ah, I… I suppose I did not consider that to be an item of import.”

“Shows what you know,” Lance scoffed and tucked the returned items into his jacket pockets.

An uncomfortable silence followed.

“Well, thanks, I guess,” Lance snorted and readied to leave.

Somewhat dismayed that his gesture had fallen flat, Lotor made no attempt to stop him. 

But after he’d gotten to his feet, it was Lance who hesitated. “Ugh, about last night… I was pretty drunk, and-”

“Ah… You’re regretting it.”

“No.” Lance replied firmly after some thought. “But I dunno, we didn't use a condom... Is there anything I need to worry about on that front?”

Lotor sighed and dutifully shook his head. “I get checked regularly. The perks of owning a hospital.” He said wryly.

Lance took the words at face-value and turned toward the door but found himself hesitating again. “Also… Was that-” He clenched his fists. “Was any of that real? I never could tell with you.”

“Well, it was certainly a wonderful fever dream if it wasn’t.” The man looked at him as if he were far away.

“No, I mean…” Lance struggled to put his thoughts into words. Short of _‘did you really miss me as much as it seemed like you did or am I still just a toy to you’_ he didn’t know what to say.

“Garrison bo- Lance.” The man reached for his hand and ran soft circles over the back of it with his thumb. “I always hoped you would come back one day and not just so I could return your cell phone.” There was a sincerity in his eyes that bordered on uncomfortable.

Heat rose to Lance’s cheeks while the man looked up at him like that. He swallowed hard and glanced at the door again before his gaze was drawn back to the man on the sofa beckoning him to stay with his eyes. Part of Lance desperately wanted to trust in it, while another part of him remained on guard, wary.

One side won out.

“So a hospital, huh?” Lance said, settling onto the couch again. He reached for the liquor that had been poured for him earlier.

“I see you’re familiar with my work.” The man’s face lit up in a way that was almost… cute.

“I may have read an article or two. _Mister LSD._ ” Lance flashed a pair of teasing eyes down the sofa.

“Ah, yes. That is another name I am known by.” The man laughed shyly. “I’ll admit, I was hoping you might have heard of it.” A grin was tossed his way and Lance felt a giddiness rising in his chest. He was remembering just how good this man was at flirting. He kept his emotions in check though, being mindful of getting unnecessarily swept away.

“Okay, but why? Why a hospital? And why there, of all places?”

“I think you know why I chose the location I did.” 

Lance looked away, not wanting to be reminded of it.

A pitying expression crossed the man’s face before he turned serious. He set down his drink, preparing to explain.

“I was not a healthy child, Lance. It was a miracle I survived past birth at all, and then it was predicted I wouldn’t make it six months. That stretched to a year, then two, then four… It seemed my parents were expecting death to fall upon them at any moment, and they did _everything_ they could to stave off the inevitable, to keep me alive as long as they could. The best doctors, the most cutting edge treatments… My earliest memories are of fluorescently lit hallways and the smell of disinfectant.” 

Seeing the hurt on his face, Lance unconsciously inched closer to him on the couch.

“As they grew more desperate and my condition worsened, my mother and father began to explore more... _questionable_ alternatives. Being well connected and wealthy, there were certain routes and courses of action that were available to them that ultimately saved me, and in that regard, I owe them my life.”

“What kind of questionable are we talking here?” Lance asked.

Lotor fixed him with a regretful look, almost like he didn’t want to tell him.

“By the age of six, I’d already had multiple failing organs and received several transplants. It suffices to say…” The man’s lips pulled into a grim line. “That I don’t know how they found donors so quickly and child-sized organs at that.” He looked at Lance meaningfully.

“Shit… You think they-”

“I was too young to remember any of it or to be involved in the decisions that were made on my behalf, but looking back at the records, I can tell you that I didn’t like what I was piecing together.”

“So the only reason you’re alive is because… Yikes.” Lance sat back deep into the couch and took a long drag from his drink.

“Yes. I was saddled with that guilt early on.” Lotor topped off his glass. “Though I don’t think my parents ever intended for me to find out, but with a certain curious nature and fascination for the medical, eventually I did. And I can tell you, I did not take it well.” His gaze drifted far away. He shook his head abruptly as if jarring himself from unpleasant memories and ran a hand through his silky locks, regaining his composure. “So to your question, I suppose Sincline General is my way of honoring certain _sacrifices_ that were made to ensure my salvation, for the people to whom I owe still being here.”

“Like your parents...” Lance had caught on that there might be some underlying issues there.

“In a way, I suppose that it does include them,” Lotor sighed heavily. His face darkened as he brought his glass to his chin. “But it is the only way I'll ever honor them.” He drank deeply.

Lance watched him, enamored with his story and with this new tragic dimension he'd never known about this man. But as he was mulling over the details, there was something that felt… off.

“Okay, let me get this straight… You built a hospital to save a bunch of kids... Because your parents likely used a bunch of kids to save you?” Lance narrowed his eyes. “Pfff, that’s a nice sob story, but what’s in it for you?” He posed the question not believing for a second that it was a truly benevolent endeavor.

The man feigned innocence. “Heaven forbid I actually want to help people and make a difference in the lives of-”

“I saw your speech, Silver. Save me the publicity stunt.”

“Aren’t you clever?” The man cracked a sneaky smile.

“I swear to God, Silver, if you're hurting a bunch of kids-”

“Certainly not! I'd never dream of it!” The man cried, offended at the accusation. “But as I’ve told you before, the best things in life are mutually beneficial. I provide health care, and they provide me with a sort of… cover. Do you understand?”

Lance didn’t reply and kept his mistrustful eyes trained on the man.

“Tell me, Lance, what do hospitals have?”

“I dunno, sick people?”

“What else?”

“Doctors… Medicine...”

The man’s eyes prompted him to continue down that path.

Lance’s eyes flitted to the white lines he’d been offered. 

“Oh… Drugs.”

 _Bingo._ Lotor tapped his own nose.

“Jesus, you're using a hospital to funnel drugs?! I thought you said you guys do good now!”

“Yes, we are also treating the cancers and diseases of individuals who wouldn't otherwise be able to afford it. That’s awfully good, don’t you think?”

Lance opened his mouth to argue but found that to be a hard point to counter.

“And that’s how you fund it, with drug money...”

“Not exactly. We also have a series of investors who expect a certain return on their capital.” He flipped his wrist with a flourish. “And then there’s my own personal finances.”

“Your drug money. You are still in a gang…” Lance was dismayed to learn.

“My father led a gang; I’m the head of an _organization._ ” Lotor corrected sharply.

“A corrupt one,” Lance scoffed.

“The world is corrupt, Lance, whether you like it or not.” The man gestured at the room around them, using it as a stand-in for the world at large. “You can play by the rules and get trampled, or you can do what you must to enact the change you want to see in the world. I take money from corrupt places and bad people and channel it into better causes.”

“So what, you're Robin Hood? Is that supposed to impress me?”

“No, because I don't steal. People willingly give me their money.” He flipped his hair arrogantly.

Disappointment was apparent on the Garrison boy’s face. Lotor squared to him and leaned forward with his forearms on his knees. 

“I’m a powerful man, Lance, with an awareness of the influence and sway I have on this city. It’s something I don’t take lightly.” A lock of hair fell forward, eclipsing a panel of his face as he tried to appeal to his guest. “This is the way I can maximize the good I can do. And in my experience...” He stared pensively at the space beneath his touching fingertips like he wished it wasn’t so. “There are few things in the world that are purely good. To truly make a difference you have to get your hands a bit dirty.” 

Lance didn't know what to make of what he was learning, nor the regret on the man’s face.

“So you’re a drug lord...”

“I’m an opportunist,” Lotor corrected. “There are two things, Lance, that desperate, too-rich-for-their-own-good fools will always pay for: Sex and drugs. And I don’t believe in paying for the former.”

“You never had to right? They were brought to you.” Lance jabbed.

“If you insist on finding fault with me.” Lotor bit back.

“Silver... Why did you really build your hospital on top of Empire G?” Lance went back to the question he’d dodged earlier.

Smugness and bravado were failed to be concealed. He was glad to have been asked.

“My father has ruled the Komar district with an iron fist for decades, but his control on it is waning. Over the last seven years I’ve been quietly undermining the Galra from within, biding my time until I could see this project to fruition. You see, a small stronghold remains deep in the Komar - the headquarters and last remaining faction of the former Galra empire. My hospital is a convenient place for us to rally, conduct our operations, and the penultimate move so that we may rid this city of my father’s Galra for good.”

“So you built a bunker in his territory.”

“Right under his nose.” Lotor smiled proudly. “And he never saw it coming.”

“You've really thought of everything…” Dubious motives aside, Lance hated to admit that he was almost impressed. “I bet your father was pretty angry after your little speech too.”

“Oh, I’m sure he was livid.” Lotor delighted. “I’ve stolen his forces allegiance right out from under him and the community and media are, not only backing, but applauding my efforts.” He swelled with pride.

“Why, though? Why bother doing good at all? Why not just crush your father’s gang or take him out the old-fashioned way or whatever if that’s your whole goal here?” It seemed like an awful lot of trouble to go to.

The man's face appeared troubled by the question.

“I don't know what you think of me, but I'm not a monster. Not like my father was.” He strayed combative then curbed to something more sad. “I don’t want to be like my parents, Lance. They were horrible people. I refuse to repeat history by doing things their way, all take and no give, slowly draining the happiness and resources of those around them. And is it… Is it so hard to believe I’d actually want to do good in this world?” Forlorn sincerity was cast down the couch.

“I… I don’t know.” Lance considered the man before him. “I guess I don’t really know you that well.” If there was one thing he'd gotten from the morning’s conversation, it was that.

“Lance…” The man looked at him softly. “Would you like to?”

“Would I like to what?”

“Know me.”

A little burst of something went off in Lance’s chest at the forwardness but before he could answer, he was being pulled off the couch. Grinning wildly, the man’s hand slipped into his and next thing Lance knew he was being given a tour of the spacious penthouse suite.

Lotor owned the entire hotel. Each of the generals - the women he’d met before - had their own apartments on other floors, but they often hung out in his space, like a family of sorts. 

“The generals…” Lance smirked. It was somehow fitting.

Lotor showed him a scale model of his hospital and the surrounding streets he had in the back of an attached conference room where they had their meetings. The almost childlike delight the man had about him as he spoke about his project and pointed at various components of it caught Lance by surprise. He was different from the man he had known at Empire G and certainly lot chattier.

They kept talking as they made their way outside to the balcony that was easily three-fold bigger than Lance’s entire old apartment and included an olympic-sized pool and hottub.

“Whoa…” Lance whispered as he approached the edge of the balcony and took in a breathtaking view of the city from up high. The dotted lights of the skyline bled into the starry skies overhead and a hint of approaching daylight was just beginning to be visible over edges of the horizon. “This is incredible.”

A chilly breeze tousled his hair. The man came up and stood close behind him.

“I did tell you things had changed.”

Lance blinked wide in somewhat overwhelmed agreement. 

“Well, what do you think?” The man asked as Lance turned to face him. A humble sort of pride beamed from his features.

“What do I think?” Lance leaned back with his elbows against the thick, concrete railing and gazed at the man in the low light. “I think…” He paused, smiling slowly. “That I don’t want to call you Silver anymore.” His smile vanished, making the man’s pride falter.

“Ah, you know, I always rather liked it when you-”

“Most of the time anyways.” Lance added with a suggestive flick of his eyebrows and brought his smile back, much to his host’s relief. “For now, I think I’d rather call you Lotor or maybe _Mister LSD_.” He teased.

“Please, Lance, that’s my press name.” The man laughed.

“LSD, huh? L _S_ D…” Lance murmured. “Uh, hey, it’s okay if it does, but does the S by any chance stand for-”

“Sincline. My mother’s maiden name,” Lotor explained.

“Right, like your hospital.” Lance snapped his fingers, somewhat relieved. 

“Why, what did you think it stood for?” Lotor said, knowing exactly what he’d suspected. 

“So, what’s the D for?” Lance pushed his luck since the man seemed to be forthcoming for a change.

Lotor’s mouth twisted in a way Lance had never seen before and it took him a second to realize he was acknowledging the innuendo. 

“Jesus, in your name!” Lance laughed and batted him playfully, pleasantly surprised by this secret sense of humor. 

“Daibalister.” The man chuckled. “Lotor Sincline...”

“...Daibalister.” Lance said it with him.

The man bowed before him like they were being introduced for the first time. “It’s a pleasure to formally meet you, Lance McClain.” 

A thrill ran down Lance’s spine as the man took his hand and stepped closer.

“You're missing a button.” He touched the spot in the middle of Lance's chest. His finger lingered, making the heart beneath it race, but then Lance recalled the circumstances under which he’d lost that button.

“Have I said something wrong?” Lotor’s hand retracted.

“No, it’s just...” Lance got caught in his eyes. “You're different than I thought you'd be.”

“In a good way, I hope.” The man’s fingers curled around Lance’s at his side.

“Yeah, I'm worried that it might be.” Lance bit his lip to stop it from twitching into an obvious smile and found himself leaning in. 

Lotor and his Garrison boy kissed on the balcony in the breaking light of day. 

A chaste but slow and powerful kiss.

They both snickered after, too shy for eye contact while Lotor’s arm made its way around his guest. Lance carefully leaned into him. 

“By the way, where the hell did you get that thing?” He finally had the courage to ask.

“What thing?”

“That _thing._ On your…”

“Oh!” Lotor laughed. “It’s a custom piece I designed myself. Did you enjoy it?” He grinned.

“Uh, _yeah!_ Do you really need to ask?” Lance couldn’t even lie. He’d never felt anything like it.

“Well, I can show it to you again if you’d like.”

It was a tempting offer but Lance pulled away.

“I really ought to get back before my friends realize I’m gone,” he said, seeing daylight beginning to creep over the horizon.

The man nodded. 

“I won’t try to convince you otherwise,” he said and kissed him softly again. “But take this.” The man whispered against his lips.

Lance looked down to see a black, metal key card with the Galra insignia inscribed on its surface being offered to him.

“Go on.” Lotor shook the key. “I want you to have it. Even if you never use it.”

“You trust me with it?”

“Should I not? Besides, this way you won’t have to break down my front door.” 

Lance laughed behind his lips. With a careful, mildly flirty look up at the man, he accepted the offering.

“You’re always welcome here, my Garrison boy.” The man kissed his forehead and for the first time the nickname didn’t make Lance’s skin crawl. Flustered and hurried by the rising sun, Lance muttered a fast goodbye.

Lotor chuckled at how quickly his guest hurried away after that and watched him nearly trip over the raised beam of the door to the patio. He leaned against the concrete railing of the balcony, a smile breaking across his lips as he watched the sun rise over the Komar District.

It was going to be a good day.

 

\- - - - -

 

Keith barely slept that night. Crunched into a corner of Hunk’s couch, he kept his eyes trained to the door and his ears straining for the tiniest of sounds, waiting and hoping Lance would come home soon. 

But he didn’t.

And eventually Keith dozed off into a restless, dream-filled sleep in which he was chasing after Lance, looking for him at a crowded club full of unfamiliar, shadowed faces. The crowd was laughing and whispering about him but Keith didn’t care. He kept searching, searching... 

“Lance! Where are you!” Keith strained to see through the tightly-packed throngs. The laughter reached a dull roar in his ears and then suddenly a giant Pidge head floated menacingly above the crowd. 

“Keith. You fucked up.” It said to him.

_You fucked up._

_You fucked up._

The mass of bodies chanted, pointing at him in unison and judging him.

“Lance!” Keith tried to shout over them but it was deafening. He fell to his knees with his hands over his ears while the crowd swarmed over him, suffocating him. He shut his eyes and grit his teeth but the chanting didn’t cease. 

_You fucked up._

_You fucked up._

_You fucked-_

The sound of something metal clanking on a hardwood floor jarred him from a shallow slumber and freed him from the pile of bodies on top of him. The giant vision of Pidge evaporated before his eyes and Keith jerked fully awake in a cold sweat breathing hard.

“Lance?” He sat up so fast he nearly tumbled off the couch. 

“Sorry, Keith. It’s just me.”

His eyes fell on a pajama-clad Hunk who was in the middle of quietly making coffee in the kitchen, but it had all gone to hell when he’d clumsily dropped a spoon.

“He... He never came home, did he...” Keith’s shoulders slumped when he saw that Lance’s belongings were untouched, exactly as he’d left them.

Hunk shook his head sympathetically. “Doesn’t look like it.”

Keith curled forward with his head in his hands.

“You okay, buddy?” A meaty but reassuring hand rested on his shoulder and a maroon coffee cup was set down in front of him. 

Keith was too distraught to speak. He forced himself to take a sip of the coffee Hunk had made for him just to be polite.

“It was the girl with the purple hair, wasn’t it… The one he was dancing with.” Keith bemoaned.

“Purple hair? Wait, are you talking about Esther? Keith, she’s a lesbian.”

“Wait, really?” Keith took his head out of his hands to look at his friend. “Are you sure she’s not bi or something like that because they looked really-”

“No, I’m pretty sure she's solidly gay.” Hunk assured him. “She definitely wouldn’t go for a guy like Lance, at least.”

That did make Keith feel better, but it still didn’t explain where Lance was.

“Has he stayed out like this before, since he’s been living here?” Keith asked.

Hunk hesitated. 

“I don't know if this is a healthy road to go down, but no, he hasn’t.”

Keith nodded solemnly. Bar rando it was, then. Miserable, Keith checked his phone in the unlikely event that Lance had texted him.

He hadn’t, of course, but someone else had.

Shiro: Call me tomorrow, okay? I’m worried about Lance.

It was time stamped from the previous night, just after he had left. Keith promptly rolled his eyes and ignored it. 

“Shit, I should get out of here…” It suddenly occurred to him how inappropriate and frankly _creepy_ it was to be waiting in Lance’s bed for him. Keith took one more sip of coffee then got up to go.

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you like. I can cook you some breakfast.” Hunk offered.

“Thank you, really, but I don’t think I want to be here when he gets back.” The thought of facing Lance was too much to bear. “Please don’t tell him I stayed.” Keith begged with his eyes.

“Sure. If that’s what you want.” Hunk looked after him, concerned.

Keith stopped with his hand on the doorknob.

“Hey, Hunk… I do have one more favor to ask of you.”

“Anything, buddy.”

“You think you could…” Keith wet his lips nervously. “You think you could teach me to cook?”

 

\- - - - -

 

Zethrid and Acxa came back to the hotel suite later that morning and one of them did _not_ look pleased.

“Sir, reporting in.” Zethrid saluted her leader, who was sitting behind his desk enjoying a morning coffee, with a fist to her chest. “Recovery efforts are underway. We believe Zarkon is estimating damages to be higher than actual. It appears our plan worked. We fooled him.” 

“Wonderful. Acxa?” Lotor prompted.

“I’m just here to collect paperwork.” She was short and didn’t look at him. “And how are things with the Garrison boy?” She added curtly while opening a file folder.

“Excellent. I appreciate you asking.” Lotor smiled pleasantly and handed her another pile of papers.

“Speaking of which, where is he?” Zethrid looked around the seemingly empty suite.

“I assume he went home,” Lotor answered.

“What?! You let him _leave?!_ ” Acxa cried. “After all that it took to get him here, how could you-” She gaped, incredulous. 

“Well, I certainly can’t keep him here like some sort of prisoner. That wouldn’t be legal.” Lotor took a smug sip of coffee.

“When has that ever-” Acxa pinched the bridge of her nose.

“So, what now?” Zethrid asked.

“We wait…” Acxa continued to grip the crown of her nose, feeling a headache coming on. “We wait until he comes back again. Just like before.”

“I’m glad we understand one another.” Lotor smiled at her.

She understood alright. Lotor had gotten what he wanted and yet the Garrison boy saga was no closer to ending. Defeated, Acxa slipped the papers she’d come for into a folder. It was too early to think about it anymore.

They were on their way out when Lotor called to them.

“Acxa…” He stood behind his desk. “He will come back. They _always_ come back.”

She looked him up and down from over her shoulder, wondering how high the price of treason.

“You should sleep. You’ve been up all night,” she said. “Thank you for the documents.”

 

\- - - - -

 

Hunk was waiting in the living room like a disappointed parent when Lance finally tiptoed into the house. Thinking he’d gone undetected, Lance turned and tried to surreptitiously close the front door.

“Whatcha doin’ there, buddy?” Hunk asked from the far corner of the living room.

“Jesus!” Lance nearly jump out of his skin. “Damn you for being an early riser…” He clutched a hand to his chest.

“Mmhmm. Have a good night, did we?” Hunk shot him a sneaky grin.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Lance played it off. 

“Oh, come on. Where’d you go? Who were you with?” Hunk teased him just like the old days.

“Nowhere. I wasn’t with anyone.” Lance denied it.

“Uh huh, sure. Then what’s that?” Hunk pointed at the dead giveaway on his neck.

“Shit…” Lance shifted his shirt but his unbuttoned collar didn’t do a very good job of concealing the evidence. “Okay look, I was with someone. But I can’t really tell you about it.”

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” Hunk dropped the joshing.

“Yeah, but I’d rather not.”

“Oh, okay I get it. She was ugly. Didn’t look like her picture.”

“Hunk. Stop.” Lance was not amused.

“No it’s okay, buddy. Happens to the best of us. And hey, everyone needs love, even the-”

“Hunk, it was a guy.”

“Oh… OH!” Hunk’s eyes went wide. Other than Keith, Lance had never really talked to Hunk about his _other_ kinds of escapades before. “Uh… oh boy. Was it, uh… good or...?”

“It was fucking fantastic, alright? And I really needed it, but it was probably a one-time thing, and I really don’t want it-”

“...getting back to Keith?” Hunk finished for him.

“Or Pidge.” Lance added. “That little gremlin can’t keep her mouth shut. So let’s just say I came home with you after the party or whatever.”

“Right… Okay, yeah… That shouldn’t be a problem.” Hunk twiddled his thumbs and hoped it wouldn’t come up. 

“Hey, whose jacket is this?” Lance picked up the one that was draped over the back of the couch. It looked vaguely familiar.

There was a double knock on the door before it opened.

“Sorry, Hunk, I forgot my...” Keith stopped in the doorway shocked to see Lance in the living room too, still dressed in the same clothes he’d worn the previous night and holding the very suit jacket he’d come back for. The ex-boyfriends’ eyes met, terror reflected in both of them. Keith’s flitted to the very obvious mark on Lance’s neck. Lance slapped a hand over it in an attempt to cover it but it was too late. Keith had already seen it. 

“Ah, Keith, I-”

Keith put his hands up and shook his head for him to stop. His mouth moved like he was trying to say something but no words came out. Lance braced for it, expecting him to go off like fireworks on the 4th of July, but with a shaky huff of air, Keith just stalked across the room, took his jacket out of Lance’s hands, then headed back out the way he’d come in. Lance’s eyes followed him as he crossed the room.

“Shit…” He whispered after the door shut firmly behind Keith. Stomach sinking, he desperately wanted to go after him and explain himself. Lance knew he was well within his right to see and be with other people if he wanted to, so then, why was it that his gut reaction was to feel like _he_ was the one who had cheated? 

“Ugh, what the hell was his jacket even doing here?” Lance dropped onto the couch, frustrated at the morning’s turn of events.

Hunk took a breath, trying to figure out where to begin. “You know what? It’s a long story,” he sighed wearily. “I’d rather not get into it.” And that was the last they spoke of it.

 

* * * * *

 

The holidays arrived and Lance didn't know which was worse, being surrounded by his happily coupled, lovey-dovey siblings and their respective spouses or the empty spaces he kept finding next to him where Keith should have been. 

First, there was the empty seat on the plane ride over. He’d never returned the ticket and was forced him to think about his ex-boyfriend the entire flight to Miami. Then there was the empty place at the dinner table because, believing that they were somehow going to work it out by Christmas, he hadn’t yet told his family about the breakup. There was even an empty spot above the fireplace next to a stocking that said Lance in blue glittery cursive. He suspected his mom had quickly taken down the one she’d made for Keith after hearing the news.

There was a hole in his world and it seemed like everywhere he turned, Lance was reminded of it. Seeing his siblings with their kids was only making him realize how far-off he was from having a family of his own. He’d really thought Keith was the one he was going to do that with.

It also didn’t help that his father kept mentioning how glad he was that what was being referring to as _‘that phase’_ was over. Lance swore if he heard one more rude comment about how at least now he could get married in a church he was going to hit up the closest Miami gay bar and bang the prettiest guy with a mullet he could find. At least his sister, Veronica, had caught on that it wasn’t something he should be teased about. He ended up venting to her about his breakup instead of seeking the company of strangers.

Something else was on his mind too that he didn’t talk to his sister about. Silver, and the night they’d finally had together. There was a closure in it that Lance hadn't been expecting from a night of throwaway sex. He was strangely at peace after that encounter. Emotionally, anyways. Physically, something in him had been reawakened that had him itching to visit the Miami club scene for reasons other than spite. But it wasn’t a random hookup that he wanted. Somehow, Lance knew it wouldn’t be enough. It was intimacy that he craved, and strangely, it wasn't always Keith he was thinking about in that regard. Lance spent many a night while at home in Miami turning over a metal key card before he went to bed, wondering what if...

 

Keith, on the other hand, spent most of the holidays pretending they weren’t happening. Hunk had invited him to a variety of parties and the Christmas dinner he was hosting but Keith had staunchly declined all invitations, opting instead to pick up as many extra shifts at the diner as he could. With students being out of school for the holidays, his tutoring load was light, and Keith put his nose to the grind, racking up hours and overtime at his other job to make up for it. On the breaks he actually took he debated texting Lance to wish him a Merry Christmas, but everytime he pulled out his phone, he saw visions of Lance with some girl he’d picked up at a bar and lost his nerve.

It wasn’t until his shift on Christmas Eve while looking around the dingy diner at the sad clientele that came in to eat solitary, quiet meals that Keith caught a scary glimpse at what could easily be his future. He didn’t want to end up like that. He didn’t want to be alone. 

Keith: _Merry Christmas, Lance. I miss you._

He finally sent it, setting his emotions over Lance’s recent hookup aside. Pidge had said to let him have this one, after all.

But, of course, Lance didn’t reply.

 

* * * * *

 

A few days into the new year, Lance was back on Hunk’s couch and in a mood still pouting over not having had anyone to kiss on New Years. That, and he’d waited too long to reply to Keith’s text without it being weird. He felt like a total jerk for not wishing Keith a Merry Christmas too.

Taking one look at the sullen man in his living room, Hunk declared a no moping in 2019 rule and piled a reluctant Lance into his Camaro with the promise of an outing that would cheer him up. Still sulky, Lance didn’t pay attention to where they were driving and had no idea what purpose the bag of tennis balls Hunk had handed him was going to serve, especially when they didn’t have rackets. 

When the car stopped, they were outside Keith’s apartment.

“Hunk, what the fuck?” Lance glared at his friend and the apparent betrayal.

“Me and Keith are hanging out today.” Hunk informed him, undoing his seatbelt.

“You and Keith are… hanging out?” Lance blinked at his friend while they got out of the car.

“Yep. And _you_ are going out with someone very special too. Trust me, it’s for your own good.” He added to the skepticism Lance was tossing his way.

The front door opened and a brown flash shot out of it. 

“Red!” Lance cried while his dog bounded across the grass towards him.

Lance met her part-way and fell to his knees. She barked excitedly and jumped up setting her paws on his shoulders to lick his face and wag her tail while Lance roared with laughter. Yelping and dancing in place, Lance egged the excitable pup on, cooing at her what a good girl she was until Red wagged her butt so hard she fell over and the pair rolled in the grass together. 

Hunk smiled at the display and waited until they settled down. 

“Take her out, have a nice time. Pick me up in three hours?” He handed Lance the keys.

“Hunk… Thank you.” Lance said from a crouch while he rubbed Red’s tummy.

“Wasn’t my idea,” Hunk smiled knowingly.

Lance looked to the front porch where someone was peeking out at him from between the blinds. The peering face disappeared as soon as Lance looked. He smiled to himself while he rubbed a happy Red’s ears.

“Hunk... Tell him thanks for me.”

“You got it, buddy.” Hunk smiled at his friend.

 

In Keith’s modest but workable kitchen, Hunk rolled up his sleeves ready to begin cooking 101. Somewhat unsure, Keith copied him by doing the same. 

“Alright, this is a six quart stainless steel soup pot. Top of the line. Chef quality. I have a few so you can borrow this one.”

Keith smiled weakly and stood rather awkwardly holding the pot and lid Hunk had just handed him. Keith’s idea of cooking was putting milk in cereal; He was a total novice in the kitchen, so Hunk had decided they should start with something simple that scaled to multiple portions, something that would feed him for the better part of the week: A basic stew. It was a hard recipe to mess up.

After they got the meat braising, Hunk showed Keith how to peel potatoes and set him to chopping carrots and onions while he made fast work of the spuds.

“So how’s Lance doing?” Keith finally asked.

“He’s okay. Really happy to see Red. You definitely won some points with that one.” 

That made Keith smile.

“He was at home for the holidays too,” Hunk continued. “I think his family was kinda rough on him.”

Keith nodded and his smile faded. He was supposed to have gone on that trip. He’d been expecting Lance to do something cheesy like get down on one knee in front of the whole McClain clan right as the ball dropped on New Years eve, thereby fulfilling his promise to propose before the end of the year at the last possible moment. To keep him waiting for it as long as he’d kept Lance waiting for that ‘I love you’. Keith could have kicked himself for that one.

“Keith? The carrots?”

“Huh? Oh!” Keith got back on task chopping vegetables.

“Has he stayed out all night again?”

“Keith, I really don’t know if I should-”

“Ah, right... Sorry.”

“He hasn’t. That I know of.” Hunk answered anyway and watched Keith heave with relief. He wiped his hands on a towel. “Alright, did you get the spices?”

“Oh, no… I figured we could just cook what we have here.” 

“Hmm, well good thing I brought my mini spice rack!” Hunk fished an assortment of small containers out his backpack. “Because meat and veg alone doesn't make a very good stew,” he chuckled and tried to add some pinches to the mix but Keith insisted he didn’t want any frills.

“I promise this will make it taste much better.” Hunk charged ahead. “Just a little dash of garlic and-”

“No, I don’t want it to taste better.” Keith shoved his hand away from the pot.

“Nonsense! A stew isn’t a stew without garlic.” The culinary-inclined man insisted and tried to put some flavor in the pot.

“Hunk, NO!” Keith pulled the pot off the stove and away from the man with the spices. 

“Why the heck not?” Hunk exclaimed, rather frustrated.

“Because I don’t deserve it!” Keith finally cried, hunching protectively over his stew. 

Hunk stepped back. His friend’s frame was practically shaking.

“I don’t- I don’t deserve it, okay? I don’t deserve anything. You shouldn’t even be helping me.”

“Keith…” Hunk started very patiently. “Is having flavor in your food somehow related to Lance?”

The look Keith gave him over his shoulder was answer enough.

Hunk nodded slowly putting it all together. “Is that why you didn’t come over for the holidays?”

Keith just shrugged and stared into his sad, flavorless stew.

Hunk put a hand on his back.

“Keith, I think maybe you deserve it more than you think. But if you really want to deserve it, you’re gonna have to at least _believe_ that you do.”

Keith’s shoulders dropped further. It sounded impossible.

“Listen, you didn’t hear this from me, but you and Lance? I don’t think it’s totally hopeless.”

“Really?” Keith lifted his eyes from the stew.

“Really.” Hunk nodded. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s still pretty hurt, so you’re gonna have to show him you mean it, ya know? But it starts here.” Hunk put a finger in the middle of Keith’s chest. “You gotta be good to yourself before you can be good to him.”

It took Keith a moment to absorb what Hunk was saying.

“Yeah… okay. Maybe just some of that red stuff.” 

“Paprika.” Hunk smiled.

“Pap- yeah that.” Keith managed a small smile too.

“But listen, Keith. Lance is also my best friend, so I have to say this once.” Hunk turned sterner than Keith had ever seen him. “Don’t make me regret this.” The threat came with a hard prod to the shoulder.

“Ow, what the hell?” 

Hunk remained stern.

“I’m serious, Keith. _Don’t_ fuck up again. _Don’t_ hurt my best friend.” More sharp stabs from his finger. 

“Okay… Okay, I won’t.” Keith said rubbing his shoulder.

“Now _believe_ that you deserve it. Start _acting_ like you deserve it.”

Before he’d even had a chance to digest the words, Keith was stuck thinking that Hunk was actually a lot bigger and scarier than he’d realized, but the pep talk had at least left him standing a little straighter. 

_Act like I deserve it…_

While Keith was distracted, Hunk slyly managed to slip a little more garlic into the pot. Because whether he thought so or not, Keith deserved it.

 

While his best friend was, in a bizarre turn of events, busy hanging out with his ex, Lance was sitting on a park bench with a tuckered out Red at his feet. A collection of slobbery tennis balls lay proudly at her side. Two others were lost in the bushes somewhere and another that she was too tired to get lay at the far side of the park. Lance leaned down to pat her side and couldn’t stop a smile from breaking across his face. He’d missed this. He’d missed his Red. The beam on his face dampened as Lance realized it wasn’t just his dog that he missed. It was everything. His apartment, sleeping in his own bed. He missed his old life. He missed... Keith.

“What am I gonna do, Red?” He curled forward to ask his dog.

She panted happily at him and slapped her tail against the ground.

 

With the elephant in the room out of the way, Keith and Hunk were chatting and having a good time while the stew simmered. Hunk was telling Keith about his favorite spices and what to use them with while Keith listened intently. It was nice having the company and to talk about something other than his broken relationship for a change.

A honking sound interrupted their conversation too soon.

“That’s my cue. Let her simmer another four hours or so.” 

“Four hours?!” Keith cried. He was hungry now.

“A good stew takes time, Keith. Like a lot of things, it can’t be rushed.” Hunk packed up his spices and said his goodbyes.

Lance was waiting for him outside, leaning against the yellow Camaro with Red panting at his feet.

“Red. Come here, girl.” Keith whistled from the front porch.

“Go on.” Lance gave her a nudge and she trotted over to her other dad to show him her new tennis ball. Crouching, Keith gave her sides a good rub when she arrived then chanced a look up at Lance.

Lance nodded his appreciation and Keith smiled back with a shy wave. Lance lifted his hand and managed a small wave too before Keith took Red back inside. There was an urge to follow them, to walk across the threshold and back into his old life, but Lance blew a heavy breath between his lips and climbed back into Hunk’s car instead.

“So, did you have a good time?” Hunk asked while he adjusted the driver’s seat from Lance’s settings.

“Yeah, I did.” Lance smiled softly at someone he suspected was watching him through a crease in the blinds. He remained quiet the rest of the way home, thinking.

 

\- - - - -

 

With the wedding less than two months away, Shay’s parents and sisters arrived the following weekend to help lock down the final logistics. They were using Hunk’s dining room as a war room and Lance found himself constantly surrounded by wedding chatter. It was miserable and depressing and had him thinking incessantly about the man he still wanted to thought he was going to marry. Even from his bed in the living room, he could hear talk of it until late at night. Finally he decided he couldn’t take it anymore and opted to stay with Pidge and Maria for a while.

But set up on a different couch, Lance ran into other problems. The faded cushions held too much history, too many memories of his past relationship. The game nights it had hosted… How the four of them used to pile onto it back in college even though there wasn’t really enough room and how Lance had secretly delighted every time he’d accidentally-on-purpose ended up next to Keith. How he’d snuck lengthy glances at his unsuspecting mulleted classmate while everyone else in the room was too distracted playing video games to notice. It was funny how they’d never figured out why he always volunteered to give up a controller whenever Keith was playing. It was even the very place Keith had lulled him to sleep in his lap with the best head scratches of his life just before they’d finally gotten together. It had taken every ounce of self-restraint Lance had to not make a move that night, terrified and certain it would ruin their friendship.

The hour grew late and Lance tossed and turned on the sofa where they’d binge-watched countless Netflix shows and scandalized poor Hunk time after time before finally moving in together. Lance swore he could still smell Keith on the cushions. That couch, hell that whole apartment, was haunted with soured happy memories. 

Unable to sleep, Lance peeled himself off the makeshift bed and away from his tortured thoughts to sit upright. He put his face in his hands and listened to his breath echoing against his palms. His body was screaming to be touched, screaming for Keith.

Running his hands through his hair on the edge of the sofa in the dark, it occurred to him that there really wasn’t anything stopping him. If he really wanted to, he could go home again. He still had his key to the old apartment, and even if his mind might still be tortured by Keith’s transgressions, at least he could sleep next to the real thing instead of intangible, bittersweet memories.

Coming to a decision, Lance picked up his backpack, left Pidge a note, and quietly slipped out the front door.

 

 

A lock clicked and Lance let go of the breath he'd been holding.

To his relief, the key had worked. He knew it would, but still, his nerves had him on edge. Bracing himself, Lance twisted the handle and pushed.

“...Lance?” A pair of shocked eyes met him on the other side of the door he’d just opened.

“Hey… Um, I need a place to stay for awhile...” With little certainty in what he was doing, Lance shifted the backpack on his shoulder and struggled to maintain eye contact. “It’s just temporary, while I figure some things out...”

“Of course. You’re always welcome here,” Lotor replied.

He’d almost done it. He’d almost gone home to Keith, but at the last minute he’d told the taxi driver to take him elsewhere. Somewhere… fresher. Somewhere where his mind was clear.

The man didn’t take his eyes off him while he set his bag down.

“Um…” Lance brushed the back of his head nervously. “I was also thinking maybe-”

Lotor was across the room and kissing him before he could finish the thought. Lance leaned into him and let himself be swept away in the moment, let it drown out the memories that haunted him and wouldn’t let him sleep. 

Before he knew it, he was being led by the hand towards the bedroom, but suddenly Lance hesitated.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” Lotor asked.

“Nothing, um…” Lance glanced over to the living room area. “You think we could do this on the couch?” He flicked his eyebrows and his sideways grin was returned in kind.

 

“Oh, fuck… Oh fuck, Silver…” 

Minutes later, Lance was firmly gripping the back of a different couch and riding him the way the horny teenager he used to be had always dreamed he would. Gasping beneath him, Lotor’s hands rested loosely on his hips, letting him have as much control as he wanted. Lance took the reins and ran with them.

Watching his Garrison boy go buck wild, Lotor’s feet scraped across the floor as he struggled to maintain his composure. Lance smirked at the obvious effect he was having.

“You know what else I remember you liking?” Lance grinned dangerously. “This!” He gripped a fistful of soft, white hair and pulled the man’s head to the side. A startled, heated gasp escaped pale lips.

“Yes, I do like that.” The man looked up at him from beneath hooded lids that dared him to do it again.

Lance obliged and this time went for his neck.

“Garrison boy…” The man whispered, clutching at Lance’s hips and moving with him. His breath fell fast. “You want-” He gestured at his smart watch.

“No. Just you is perfect.” Lance breathed and found his lips again, steadily undoing himself as he undid the man beneath him.

 

In the control room, Narti was doing the nightly digital rounds and boredly flipping through security camera feeds. Suddenly she jolted upright and began batting Zethrid’s arm frantically.

“What, Narti!” The gruff general complained before she saw what had caught her colleagues attention. “Well, I’ll be damned…” She guffawed loudly. “Ezor! Get over here and get a load of this!”

The slender general wandered over and gasped excitedly at the couple going at it on the couch. 

“No way! Damn, Lotor!” She cried. “And damn, Lance.” She added with a smirk.

“What are you all looking at?” Acxa came over and nearly dropped her tablet when she saw. She gaped at the screen, appalled. “We shouldn’t be watching this!” She quickly hit a key to minimize the feed.

Narti flailed her hands indignantly.

“Hey!” “Spoilsport.” The other generals complained.

“Get back to work. _Now!_ ” The first in command snarled and sauntered off.

“Jeez, somebody wishes she was the one in Lotor’s lap,” Ezor muttered, earning an amused huff from Zethrid and a knowing head tilt from Narti.

 

Back in the suite, Lance collapsed forward with his chin on Lotor’s collar bone, gasping for breath.

“You don't know- how long I waited- to do that...” he heaved weakly.

Equally out of breath but with a huff of happy air, Lotor ran a hand up the back of a neck and into brown hair, bringing it around to cup a freckled cheek. “I might be able to fathom it.” 

Long fingers that contrasted sharply against his pale skin trailed down the back of his hand to his wrist.

“I could fuck you on this couch all night.” His Garrison boy’s blue eyes blazed.

Lotor’s eyes lit up to match it.

“Be careful what you wish for, Garrison boy.” He pressed their noses together and with shared giggles, they keeled over onto the flat of the couch together.

 

A safe amount of time later, Acxa pulled up the security camera feed. Her lip curled at the couple snuggling and whispering to each other under a blanket on the sofa. Whether she liked it or not, the Garrison boy was back. And this time, it appeared he was there to stay. 

But perhaps it wasn’t totally a bad thing, she tried to convince herself. After all if Lotor was happy, he was more likely to be productive, right? Acxa's lip curled into a full-on snarl. She should have gotten rid of him when she’d had the chance.

But maybe, just maybe, there was a way to use the Garrison boy to her advantage. And so it was that Acxa started hatching a different plan. 

She was going to let the Garrison boy live...

...for now.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Don't miss that last ...for now!)
> 
> Hoo boy... what's y'all's take on Lotor now? There's a lot to digest there.
> 
> And are we feeling bad for Keith yet?  
> If Lance's song in this breakup is _Ready Yet_ by Sasha Sloan, then Keith's is _Middle of the Night_ by Amy Shark. TY to the tumblr folks who clued me in to these songs!
> 
> Alright, this chapter wasn't perfect, and it was LONG, but I know there's a lot you're going to have to say about it, so please sound off! 
> 
>  
> 
> Next Chapter: **In Deep**


	11. In Deep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s been almost a month since Lance started staying with Lotor and they are deep in that sweet, honeymoon phase, but a familiar stunt leave Lance questioning things. Meanwhile, Keith starts acting like he deserves it.
> 
> Take a shot every time somebody thinks about their ex! (Please don’t! Dx)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update took so long. Health and life stuff sidetracked me a bit, but I’m all good now! I also had to do some planning to make sure the next five or six chapters are going to line up, but rest assured, I’m ready to plow through these next few updates as fast as I can! :)
> 
> **Things from past fics that are relevant here (I don't expect you to remember everything):**
> 
> \- Lotor pulled a no-show on Lance once at Empire G, just left him sitting in the back room until Lance figured out he wasn't coming. It was right after they'd spent a really sweet night together too, no sex just cuddling on his couch. Some mean mind games were being played. (Chapter 3/4 of PGFR) 
> 
> \- Keith was kind of shitty about Lance's bisexuality in the past. He got better about it (PMASR ch 6), but it's a thing that happened.
> 
> \- For international readers, US phone numbers have the format xxx-xxx-xxxx. (Think you can guess Lotor's phone number? DO IT NOW! I meant to put this at the end of last chapter but forgot. /sigh)
> 
>  
> 
> Some minor edits have been made to previous chapters because I’ve always imagined Shay and her family as Indian and have done a poor job of writing them as such. So now she's shopping for wedding sarees instead of dresses, etc. So just a heads up on that!
> 
> And finally... I'm so woefully behind on replying comments. I'm so sorry, everyone. Your comments mean the world to me and I'm gonna try to get to them this weekend! <3

  


Keith was on a roll. 

He couldn’t explain how it had happened exactly, but he’d woken up one morning, taken a long, hard look around his apartment, and decided that he'd had enough. He was done wallowing. It was time to start acting like he deserved it.

Promptly rolling up his sleeves, he’d gotten to work.

First, he’d scrubbed his entire apartment from floor to ceiling, emptied every vessel he’d been using as a trashcan - whether that was its intended purpose or not - and finally done something about the mountain of dirty clothes that had been accumulating in the corner of his bedroom for weeks on end. While the laundry was spinning, he tackled the bathroom, using a knife to get the last of Lance’s crusted-over hair wax off the bathroom counter and went at the limescale caked on the faucets with baking soda and an old toothbrush until the chrome shone like new. He even put the toilet roll on the spinner like an adult instead of leaving it on the edge of the closest surface. 

He threw out all the rotting containers of take out in the fridge, left the oven ranges to soak in the sink, and scraped the gunk off the bottom of the oven that Hunk claimed he could taste in the food whenever they cooked. Though he was sweaty and tuckered out from a day of hard labor by the end of it, he had to admit, he already felt better. 

And riding that wave of momentum, he’d pulled a complete one-eighty in a matter of weeks.

Working like a machine, Keith was taking on as many hours at the diner and tutoring center as possible, determined to earn as much money as he could. And thanks to a few recipes he’d learned from Hunk, he’d gained back ten of the fifteen pounds he'd lost since the breakup. It had him admiring his reflection in the mirror for a change, pleased to be looking less scrawny. Conversely, Red was trimmer too, probably because he was properly measuring out her food and Lance wasn’t around to sneak her treats when he wasn’t looking. He’d bathed and groomed his slimmed-down pup and bought her a new collar that fit better and matched her name.

To address his own lapse in personal grooming, he'd finally gotten a haircut insisting to the hairdresser, that yes, he was aware it wasn’t 1985 anymore, and that _yes_ , he did want to keep the mullet. As much as he teased him about it, Lance had always seemed to like that hairstyle. His fingers had a way of lingering and playing with that extra bit of length at the back of Keith’s head. He’d have given anything to have Lance's fingers in his hair again.

Loneliness aside, Keith finally felt on top of things. He was paying his bills, his bank account had a balance that didn't put him at risk of overdrafting for the first time in as long as he could remember, and despite things going really well for a change, he’d never been more exhausted in his life.

Between his two jobs, he was working day and night with just enough time after tutoring to feed Red and take her out on a run before he sped off to the diner for his second shift, coming home again just in time to pass out until the next morning when he would do it all over again. And frustratingly, despite how much he was working, he was barely breaking even. He’d done the math… The minimum wage job at the diner just wasn’t enough if he wanted to cover all of the rent, and off-brand CoCo Puffs were really starting to taste like shit.

But what other choice did he have? He couldn’t go work for Shiro even if it had been more than _three times_ on the hour what he was making at the diner. It just wasn’t an option until he’d patched things up with Lance. That is, if he still _could_ patch things up with Lance... 

No, Keith shook off the defeatist attitude and held his chin high. If he had to suffer and run himself ragged for a while, then so be it. Whatever it took, he was ready to win Lance back.

And thinking of his ex, Keith cracked open a neglected Spanish textbook while he sat at his flimsy, makeshift dining room table and snuck in a bit of extra studying while he shoveled spoonful after spoonful of fake CoCo Puffs down the hatch. 

 

 

Meanwhile, across town and forty-two stories in the sky, Lance was living in the lap of luxury. Beneath D.porthault Jours de Paris sheets with a thread count higher than the rent he was still paying for his ex's apartment, Lance was sleeping better than ever. Waking up every morning wrapped in a pair of warm arms and to soft kisses was the icing on the cake.

He moaned softly as he came to in just such a configuration.

“What can I have room service get you this morning?” A trail of gentle kisses were left down his neck.

“Mmm, I’m good with this.” Lance rolled over in place and sleepily threw his arms around him.

“You have to eat, darling.”

“Can I eat you?” Lance gnawed on the closest piece of available flesh.

Lotor chuckled and tightened his embrace. He brushed Lance’s hair back and brought his mouth to the side of his head.

“I hate to tell you this…” Breath tickled Lance’s ear. “But I’m late… And I have to leave soon.” 

Lance balled up against him, groaning in protest.

Lotor carefully pried himself from the other man and began to crawl out of bed.

“No, don’t go yet.” Lance caught him by the arm and brought him tumbling back to the mattress. “I know what I want to order.” He wore a coy but mischievous expression.

“What’s that?” Lotor rolled close to him again, slotting their legs together and playing along.

Lance shifted and let his hand drift downwards.

“Hmm, I’m thinking… speed bumps.” He purred the affectionate name for Lotor’s piercings.

Lotor’s eyes fluttered shut under his touch.

“Darling, I haven’t got time.” Lotor gently moved Lance’s wrist away. “My jet is already waiting.” 

Lance gave up trying to keep him. “Will you be back tonight? You know I can’t sleep alone.” His hands lingered loosely around his waist. 

“I’ll do my best to be back in a timely fashion.” Lotor leaned down to kiss him again only to have a pillow shoved in his face.

“You just can’t say it in plain English, can you?” Lance teased and mushed the pillow in harder.

“Fine.” Lotor laughed as he pushed the pillow away. “I’ll be back. You won’t have to sleep alone.”

“Promise?” Blue eyes pleaded up at him.

“I promise.” He leaned down and Lance melted under his lips. “You’ll get to play with my speedbumps later.” He met Lance with a smirk as he got out of bed.

Lance returned the expression then pulled the pillow over his own face, somewhere between embarrassed and smitten.

He pulled the pillow below his eyes and hugged it to his chest watching Lotor get dressed from the bed and took a moment to marvel at the man’s pale, naked form. Eyebrows twitched as long hair was swept out of the way so a fitted shirt could slide over broad shoulders. Lance whistled low to himself. He was really hittin’ that.

“Are you going to work today?” Lotor inquired stepping into a pair of business pants.

Was it a weekday? Lance had lost track.

“Um… I might call in sick again, hang out here, if that’s okay.”

“Of course. Make yourself at home.”

Lance had been missing a lot of work lately. Truthfully, he’d just been finding it hard to care. But he wasn't too worried; He had enough cred from all the overtime he'd clocked before the holidays to smooth things over if anyone complained.

A small suitcase was taken from the closet and Lotor began tucking a change of clothes into it. Lance watched him, wondering why he was packing an overnight bag if he said he was going to be back.

“You still have the credit card I gave you?” Lotor asked while he continued packing.

“Yeah…”

“Good. Use it. Anything you want.” 

The suitcase was zipped up and Lance tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest.

The man disappeared into the closet again.

“Hey, um…” Lance cleared his throat. “Can I get your number? So I can, like, text you while you’re gone or whatever?” He tried to play it off, not wanting to sound too needy. 

Lotor paused to peer at him out of the walk-in closet.

“You have my number. You’ve always had it.”

“Uh, pretty sure I don’t…”

Lotor tilted his head.

“What does your phone say when I call?”

“It doesn’t say anything. It’s a restricted number.”

“Yes, my number is restricted.” Lotor looked at him like he’d answered his question.

Lance stuck his arms out at his sides, completely not following.

“Bring it here.” Lotor beckoned him over.

Lance lumbered out of bed in nothing but his shorts and held out his phone to him.

“Watch closely.” Lotor stood behind him, letting Lance hold the device while he typed into it over his shoulder.

“R.” 

Lotor pressed 7. 

“E.” 

Then 3. 

“S…” 

7 was pushed next.

Lance’s eyes narrowed. He began to count the letters in the word he suspected...

“T...”

The blip for ‘8’ sounded.

Ten. There were ten letters in ‘restricted’. 

Lance’s head snapped to the man next to him, his jaw dropping as he caught on. “Are you fucking-”

“R.”

Lotor cut him off with another 7. 

“-kidding me right now? Lotor, I swear to God-”

“I...” 

The man held Lance in place and struggled not to giggle as he pressed 4.

Lance’s bottom lip jutted out with annoyance.

“C- T- E- D! Res-tri-cted!” Lotor quickly finished typing his number before a very frustrated Lance could squirm away from him. Lance checked once he got away and sure enough the number came up in his contacts under ‘Restricted’. 

“I can’t believe you... How is this even in my phone?” He held his device protectively and put enough space between himself and Lotor to properly demonstrate his annoyance.

“Really? You never thought to try calling it? Garrison boy…” Lotor cocked his head patronizingly. “I thought you’d have figured that out.” 

Lance shot a thoroughly unimpressed look over his shoulder and returned to the bed to sulk.

“Oh, Darling, come on…” Lotor tried not to laugh at him.

A fierce glare was launched before Lance got up to stare out the window with his back to him and his arms crossed.

“Lance…” Lotor came up to one side and tried to catch his eye but was denied. “Oh? Getting the silent treatment, am I?” He came around to the other side.

Lance refolded his arms and looked in the opposite direction.

“Well, be upset with me if you must.” Lotor’s arms slowly wrapped around him and his chin came to rest on Lance’s shoulder. “But I saved my number in your contacts years ago when you spent the night in my arms at Empire G.”

Lance tensed slightly. Empire G was a touchy subject between them, one that was usually avoided. 

“If there was ever a night that I fell for you…” Lotor’s hands traced down his arms.

“I thought you were just making me feel loved,” Lance scoffed.

“Funny story about what I thought at the time...”

Lotor couldn’t see it but a hint of a smile twitched across Lance’s face. He let go of the tension held in his shoulders and leaned back into the man behind him.

“I can’t believe I could have called you this whole time,” Lance finally said.

“Would you have?”

“No! But that’s not the point!”

“What is the point then?”

“I…” Lance turned in place and got lost in crystal blue eyes. “I don’t even know anymore.” He pushed his fingertips into the long, white strands framing the face that captivated him so. “You’re like a drug. I just can’t get enough...” He gazed up at the man in awe, fully enamored. His eyes flitted to pale lips and as though they had their own gravitational pull, Lance began falling towards them.

Lotor pulled away just before they connected and kissed his wrist instead. “I really have to go. I’ll try to be back tonight.”

“You promised you would be.” Lance reminded him.

Lotor nodded an acknowledgement as he shouldered his bag.

“In the meantime, bond with the girls. Get to know them.” 

“They don’t like me.”

“Nonsense.”

“Acxa doesn’t like me.” 

“Acxa doesn’t like anyone.” 

“She likes you.”

Lotor dodged his eyes on that one.

“Just try for me. They’ll like you once they get to know you. Even Acxa.” He pecked Lance’s temple and gave his hand one more squeeze. Lance would have preferred he kiss his mouth instead. He was still feeling rather unkissed, a fact he tried to communicate with his eyes.

“By the way, I had a massage scheduled in a few hours.” Lotor either didn’t notice or completely ignored the non-verbal plea. “Take it, since I won’t be using it. And give him this, if you could.” He pulled a duffel bag out from under the bed and handed it to him.

Lance immediately dropped it to the floor, unprepared for how heavy it was.

“Jesus. What the hell is in this thing?”

“Payment.”

“Payment for wh-” They exchanged glances. “You know what, nevermind.” There were certain things Lance didn’t ask about. Things he’d rather not know, like the time he’d nearly asked Lotor if he’d ever killed anybody. He was pretty sure he already knew the answer to that question.

“Now listen, this is very important.” Lotor turned serious, sharing a look between the other man and the duffel bag. “Do not let it out of your sight.” 

Lance swallowed hard and nodded to the instructions.

“Oh, and darling…” Lotor’s tone lightened and he cast an alluring look over his shoulder on his way out the door. “Do try to behave while there’s another man’s hands on you.”

“Wait, he’s not that kind of massage therapist, is he?”

Lotor made an amused face. 

“Lotor, seriously-”

"Nos vemos, querido." The man smiled sweetly and took his leave, and suddenly Lance was alone in the bedroom, still a bit miffed that Lotor had ducked out of that last kiss.

 

Being on his own wasn’t that big of a deal though. He’d spent plenty of time by himself in the hotel suite while Lotor and his generals were out running ‘missions’ or doing whatever secretive thing it was that they did. Lance had explored plenty, but there were entire rooms in that penthouse apartment that he didn’t dare touch or enter. Much like the duffel bag, for his own sanity he kept a healthy separation between his relationship with Lotor and the activities of his organization. This time though, all the generals were in the suite too. It was the first time he’d been left alone with them without Lotor and suddenly Lance felt a lot less comfortable than he had before.

He opened the bedroom door a crack and peered through it. 

Zethrid was on a couch with her feet up on the coffee table eating slices of apple off her knife and watching a soccer game. Narti was in a corner playing with the cat, a heavy hood pulled up over her head, and Acxa and Ezor were animatedly arguing about something on the far side of the main room.

Lance quietly closed the door, opting to stay in the safety of the bedroom and guard the duffel bag until his potentially questionable massage. 

He passed the time with a lazy morning: lounging on the bed in his pajamas, enjoying a leisurely breakfast courtesy of room service, and definitely not thinking about what might be in that duffel bag or considering looking inside. He scrolled endlessly through Instagram to distract himself and to keep his twitchy fingers busy. 

Lance was liberal with the likes, double tapping nearly every picture of his friends that popped up in his feed. He’d been spending so much time with Lotor lately that he’d barely seen his friends at all. It was kind of sad that Instagram posts felt like they were catching up. Still, the pictures his friends had posted brought a smile to his face.

Pidge and Maria were as adorkable and domestic as ever with pictures of their creepy snake-child. Lance shuddered at a close-up of Bii-Boh-Bi’s head. Hunk’s kitchen creations left him salivating even though he’d just scarfed down a hefty breakfast. And Shay had filled his feed with wedding inspiration after wedding inspiration and a particularly unflattering selfie of her brother, Rax, that made Lance blurt out a laugh.

“Fuckin’ Rax…” He snorted and liked the picture.

Shifting on the mattress and bringing his phone closer to his face for extra privacy even though he was alone, Lance brought up Keith’s profile, but of course he hadn’t posted anything new. Keith had never been much of a social media person, and in some ways, that made it easier. It meant Lance didn’t have to block him. Shiro and his thirsty, muscly, go-go dancing pictures had been unfollowed and banned from his timeline long ago. Lance didn’t need to see that shit.

He scrolled down to the one picture of Keith’s face that had ever been posted on his account. Mostly because he wasn’t the one who had posted it. Lance had. And then he’d refused to show him how to delete it. It was a candid picture that Keith totally wasn’t ready for and his expression in it could only be described as an adorable, mildly surprised 'huh?'

The corner of Lance’s mouth twitched upwards. Why was he so damn cute?

“He’s in there.” He jumped hearing Zethrid’s muffled voice through the door and hastily tucked his phone away.

There was a knock and a man’s head poked inside the room moments later.

“Yoo hoo?”

Lance sat up fast, staring because but for the lack of a scar and shock of white hair, he was the spitting image of…

“Sh-Shiro?”

“Who? No it’s me, Sven. Are we ready for rubdown?” He clapped his hands together.

“Uh…” Lance was too thrown off by this look-alike that had somehow materialized in Lotor’s bed chambers, of all places, to know what to do.

 

He calmed his nerves enough to settle onto the folding massage table Sven had setup. Lance was apprehensive about having a guy that looked an awful lot like Shiro touch him especially if he might be _that_ kind of massage therapist, but Sven had good hands, at least. He was going to town on Lance's neck and shoulders and it felt heavenly. His eyelids grew heavy and he very nearly nodded off.

“The famous Lance. Ah, I feel so lucky!” Sven’s voice danced.

“You know who I am?” Lance murmured sleepily.

“Everyone around here knows who you are.”

“Huh…” Lance wondered how far ‘everyone’ extended and just how big Lotor’s organization was. But there was a more pressing question on his mind. “Hey, Sven, you don’t by any chance have a half-japanese brother, do you?” He could not get over the resemblance. It was uncanny.

“Nope, only child here,” Sven said as his knuckles rolled down either side of Lance’s spine, nearly making him drool. Lance wondered if Shiro’s hands could do that.

“So how long have you been working for Lotor?” He continued to make small talk to distract himself from someone he’d rather not be thinking about. The thick Swedish accent was helping separate this man from his doppleganger.

“Oh, about five years I’d say.”

“Do you think he’s a good person?”

“Oh my, jag säger inget, så har jag ingenting sagt,” Sven chuckled. “But well, he’s a person... Then again, how good are any of us really?”

Lance wasn’t sure he liked that answer.

“Lotor… He’s, how you say... good to the people he cares about,” Sven went on. “He has a kind heart. But too much rotten fruit on that tree he fell from. Think twice before crossing him.”

“What happens when you cross him?”

“Ho ho ho… No one knows. Those people aren’t around to tell their stories. Relax, you’re so tense.” Sven slapped his shoulders before digging in again.

“He- He's been pretty nice to me...” Lance thought out loud.

“When things are going his way, Lotor is easy as a pancake. But when he’s losing…” Sven’s tone darkened. “Måla verkligen fan på väggen. He’ll paint the devil on the walls to get his way.”

It cease being a relaxing massage experience from that point on.

 

Lance didn’t feel like being shut up in a bedroom after his interaction with Sven, which thankfully hadn’t been _that_ kind of massage after all. Still, he was a little rattled by what he’d said and that he’d handed off a bag of god knows what to him too. Lance almost wished he’d looked.

He cautiously emerged from the bedroom to find Zethrid snoring on the couch and Ezor and Acxa reclining in loungers and sunning themselves on the pool deck. Narti was nowhere to be found. 

Lance decided to kill some time in the pool swimming laps. Ezor gave him a friendly wave as he joined them on the pool deck. Acxa didn't move but shot him a side-eye from beneath her oversized sunglasses.

The water felt good. It had been a while since he’d done any real sort of exercise and getting his heart pumping again was invigorating. Lance had been expecting chlorine, but to his surprise it was saltwater. Lifestyles of the rich and the famous, he internally rolled his eyes as he kicked off from the wall again. The taste of it made him think of the ocean and a few laps later he caught himself dwelling on a very expensive item he’d left at the bottom of the Pacific. His stroke slowed and when he next got to the pool’s edge he decided he’d swam enough.

Gasping for breath, he pulled his goggles off his head and saw that Acxa had moved to the hot tub. Headphones in her ears and sunglasses over her eyes, she looked very relaxed. Lance climbed out of the pool to join her, figuring if there was ever a time to try to make friends...

“Feels good, huh?” He said as he entered the smaller pool, being careful to disturb the placid water only minimally.

Acxa opened one eye beneath her sunglasses to express her distaste at being interrupted.

“Is this like your guy’s day off? Do you get those? Days off...”

She continued to ignore him.

“That’s a cool tattoo.” Lance tried again to engage her, noticing she had a small battle axe with a viciously pointy blade angled across one of her breasts. 

She shot him a perturbed look and pulled an arm over her chest.

“Ah- I wasn’t checking them out- I mean, checking _you_ out. Uh, it’s just… It’s right there.”

Lance got a well-deserved eyeroll.

“Look, I know you don’t like me. Is it just a jealousy thing or…?”

She lifted her sunglasses to properly sneer at him.

“Okay, okay… I take it back. But why? What’s your problem with me?”

Acxa plucked her headphones from her ears one by one and squared to him.

“You’re dead weight.” She did not mince words. “A dragging anchor on this team. No more than a kept errand boy. The only thing you’re good for is keeping Lotor happy.”

“And you hate that, don’t you? That I make him happy.”

“Your his latest toy,” she went on. “He has a whole garage of shiny toys he got bored with. Your luster won’t last forever.”

“What, were you his shiny toy before or something?” Lance returned the sass in kind.

She gnashed her teeth at him so aggressively it unsettled the still water. “Watch where you step, Garrison brat! You’re not as untouchable as you think!” With that, she fled from the hot tub.

“Hey, Acxa, come on… I didn’t mean-”

Having watched the exchange from the poolside, Ezor approached the hot tub in a colorful, skimpy two-piece bikini that did not hide her figure nor the detailed tattoo of a vintage, leg-in-the-air pin-up girl that stretched along the entire curve of her abdomen. Lance caught himself staring and quickly averted his eyes while she splashed in across from him.

“Don’t take it personally.” She turned on the bubbles and sat back against one of the jets. “She can be a real bitch.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to go that far...”

“It's a cop thing. Probably.”

“She's a cop?”

“Yeah, we all have cover jobs,” Ezor explained. “Acxa’s a cop, I bartend, Zethrid drives a cab, and Narti-” Ezor’s face twisted. “I think she’s Lotor’s assistant or something. We don't really know what she does. She's a bit of a mystery. Snarky as hell, though. A good balance for Captain No-Fun-McGee.” She gestured in the direction Acxa had sulked off.

“So you all work for him?”

“Yeah, sort of… It’s a little more complicated than that.” She was cagey. “But Lotor, he’s good to us, ya know?”

Lance hummed thoughtfully.

“Acxa’s been with him the longest. I’m relatively new.” 

_With him..._

A chill ran down Lance’s spine. 

“When you say with him, are you all, like, _with him_ with him or...?” 

To his relief, Ezor cackled loudly. 

“With Lotor? Oh god, no!” She laughed again. “I don’t think we’re exactly his type, if you catch my drift.” She very obviously eyed his crotch then winked at him. “It’s more like, we’re a weird kind of family. Stuck with each other, ya know? But we’re useful for photo ops and stuff like that.” She kicked her hands behind her head causing her chest to rise above the water-level, something Lance’s eyes noticed. “He likes to at least look like a playboy,” she explained.

“So he’s gay, then?” Lance brought his gaze back to Ezor’s face.

“Who knows?” She was casual about it. Lance's eyes drifted down to her chest again before he sat back, relieved but also with a dozen more questions. Ezor eyed him suspiciously while he was lost in his thoughts.

“Hey, Lance...” She began untying the strings at the back of her neck.

Lance snapped back to reality just in time to see Ezor’s bikini top fall away.

“Oh, Jesus!” He quickly turned away and put a hand over his eyes just to be safe. “What the hell are you doing?!”

“Hah! I knew it! You’re _not_ gay, are you!”

“No- Well, maybe depending on your definition but... I’m bi, okay?” 

“Interesting...” She mischievously crept closer. Lance waded away from her still shielding his eyes.

“Can you just- Can you put your top back on please?” He was going red in the face.

She shrugged and complied. Lance peeked through his fingers to make sure it was safe before allowing himself full field of vision again.

“Don’t tell anyone, okay? Especially not Lotor!" He begged. "It’s been a problem for people before.”

“Keeping secrets already, huh?”

“Ezor, seriously…”

“Alright, alright, I won’t say anything.” She laughed playfully.

“So what’s Acxa's deal?” With an exhausted sigh, Lance changed topics. “Why is she so…”

“Why does she have a stick up her ass?”

“Sure,” Lance chuckled. He liked Ezor. Unpredictable though she may be, she was easy to talk to.

“Well, she’s been here the longest and she’s the only one of us brave enough to stand up to Lotor. She has this weird relationship with him. We can’t tell if she’s totally wet for him or just really gung-ho about her job. But either way, she’s so good at it! She keeps Lotor in line in a way I’ve never seen anyone else pull off. And he actually listens to her! As bitchy as she can be, I think we all kinda look up to her. At least I know I do. Yeah, she’s always doing cool stuff and killin’ it out there on missions…” 

Lance tilted his head while Ezor prattled on about how great Acxa was. The wistful admiration on her face was eerily familiar.

“And it’s like, sometimes I wish she would just…”

“Notice you?”

“Yeah!” Ezor’s face lit up. “Like, I want her to see that I can be awesome like her too! I wonder why that is…”

“Mmhmm.” Lance pinched his lips together. He knew exactly why that was. “Hey Ezor, you ever think maybe you like her?”

“Well, yeah, I like her-”

“No, I mean, _like_ her.”

A perplexed then horrified expression crossed Ezor’s face.

“Shut up! I do not!” She launched a wave of hot bubbly water in Lance’s direction and ran off.

Lance shook his head and wiped the suds out of his eyes. Well, bonding was going great. He’d successfully managed to piss two of them off. It made him even more afraid to talk to the big, scary one or the creepy, quiet one that always hid in a hoodie. Disheartened, Lance slouched in the water low enough to blow bubbles with his mouth and wondered if he hadn't somehow ended up in a remake of Mean Girls. Though, he couldn't say he was surprised. That was about how he would have reacted if someone had accused him of liking Keith before he’d been ready to admit it.

Not a minute later Ezor splashed back into the hot tub with panic all over her face.

“Okay, so I think I like her… “

Lance couldn’t help but grin.

“Shut up! Don’t laugh!” She splashed him again. “And you cannot tell her!”

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” Lance promised.

“Oh god, it’s so hopeless. I mean, she’s… _Acxa_. She could have any person she wants!”

“Well, apparently not Lotor,” Lance gloated a little. “But yeah, I know how that goes. I liked a guy like that once.”

“Did it work out?” She looked to him for hope.

“Uh… Sort of. For a while, anyways.” Lance saddened.

“Obviously not if you’re here…” Ezor’s face fell too.

“Yeah, I guess it didn’t...” Lance grew quiet.

“Eh, not everything’s meant to work out.” Ezor shrugged it off quickly enough and began whimsically flicking bubbles. “Forever is a fallacy.” She spitefully popped the biggest one in her vicinity with a sharp fingernail.

Lance sunk his shoulders below water-level and remained silent.

 

 

That same afternoon after getting off work, Keith realized he had a free evening and invited Hunk over to cook with him.

“Wow, this place sure looks clean!” Hunk complimented as he came inside carrying a bag of tomatoes, a large wheel of cheese, and several boxes of pasta. “Like a whole new kitchen!” He inspected the oven and gave it a nod of approval.

“Did Lance not want to come see Red this time?” Keith was somewhat perplexed that Hunk had come alone. Getting to wave at Lance while he picked up Red had become the highlight of Keith’s week. He’d been planning to segue it into a conversation eventually, to see if maybe Lance was ready to try to work things out.

“I actually haven’t seen him much lately,” Hunk replied. “He’s been staying with Pidge the last few weeks. My house is kinda crazy right now what with all the wedding stuff.”

“Oh…” Keith visibly deflated.

“Do you not wanna cook?” The ingredients sagged in Hunk’s arms. “If this is all just a cover to see Lance, I mean, I get it-”

“No, no, no,” Keith assured him. “Hunk, please. You’re kinda saving my life here.” He put a hand over his stomach. “So what are we making today?” Keith perked up, happy to have Hunk’s company.

“Good old fashioned spaghetti and meatballs.” Hunk chef kissed his fingers. “Did you get the meat?”

“Oh, I got the meat.” Keith’s lip quirked and he opened the refrigerator with a sassy kick of his hip.

“Alright. He’s got the meat!” Hunk celebrated.

Keith stifled a laugh as he pulled out the three pounds of ground beef he’d bought earlier that day. It was easily the gayest exchange they’d ever had and his painfully straight friend was adorably none the wiser for it.

Hunk set Keith to grating cheese while he diced the tomatoes, and not long after, a pot of from-scratch sauce was bubbling. Hunk showed him how to prepare meatballs, roll them up, and cook them in the oven and soon Keith’s apartment smelled good enough to make his stomach rumble. Red even wandered over sniffing inquisitively and looking for scraps.

“How is Lance, by the way?” Keith finally asked while he stroked Red’s ears.

“He seemed to be doing better last I saw him.” Hunk knelt to check on the meatballs through the oven window. “He was more... upbeat, I guess?”

That sounded promising.

“Do you think it’d be a good time to, I dunno, try to talk to him?” Keith was nervous just thinking about it.

Hunk puffed out his cheeks and blew air between his lips. “I dunno, buddy. You’ll see him at the wedding meeting in a couple days. Read the room and see how it goes?”

Keith nodded and took the written-out list of instructions Hunk had extended to him so he could replicate the recipe on his own.

He was sad to see Hunk go. With all the hours he’d been working, Keith was starved for social interaction. But with a belly full of meatballs, he crashed out hard that night, too tired when his head hit the pillow to think about how lonely he was or just how much was riding on the conversation he wanted to have with Lance.

 

 

Keith may have been sleeping soundly, but across town Lance was awake and restless. The hour was growing late and the generals had retired to their own apartments. Unable to sleep, Lance wandered out onto the bedroom balcony and checked the clock on his phone for probably the hundredth time.

12:31pm and Lotor still wasn’t home. 

He’d promised he was going to be back that night and he wasn’t. 

Lance didn’t know why he’d expected anything different. Of course he’d broken his promise. 

It made sense. _Everything_ made sense. He was just his latest shiny toy, just like Acxa had said. Lotor had even stood him up like that before back at Empire G. And now that he thought about it, other than being more upscale, their relationship was really no different than it had been back then. Entirely on Lotor’s terms, exclusively in his space… It wasn’t like they ever saw each other outside the hotel suite. If Lance asked him to come to Hunk’s wedding with him, for instance, would he even say yes? And okay, he wasn’t involved with any of the generals, but who the hell was that massage guy? Lance was going to lose his mind if Lotor was fucking a carbon-copy of Shiro too.

And, for that matter, was Lotor seeing anyone else? Lance didn’t have a clue where he went or who he was with or the nature of the various 'business relationships' he might be carrying on. There was so much he didn’t know and Lance was starting to get the familiar feeling that it was by design. Had he really fallen for this man’s bullshit again all because, what, he’d said some sweet things and flashed cushy accommodations at him?

Lance felt sick.

He gazed out at the shining lights of the city and wondered how his little mice were doing. He’d left them with Allura when he’d vacated Hunk’s place. It had been a nightly ritual to let the feisty one with the dark eyes that reminded him of a certain someone crawl across his fingers before going to bed. The things he’d told to that little critter... Lance turned his empty hand over in the moonlight. Was it weird to miss a mouse?

He was one cognitive step away from admitting it wasn’t the mouse that he missed when he thought he heard the door to the suite open and turned to look. The bedroom door opened hastily a moment later.

“Darling? Where are you?” 

“Lotor…?” 

He sounded out of breath, like he’d hurried. Lance stumbled across the balcony as the man’s silhouette appeared in the sliding glass doorway. 

“There you are.” He smiled, indeed out of breath.

“You’re... back.” Lance stopped a few paces away from him as if he couldn’t believe it.

Appearing tired but still smiling, the man closed the distance between them with soft hands. “I told you I would be. I’m not in the habit of breaking my promises.”

With that Lance attached himself to him, sorry he’d ever doubted him.

“There was an unfortunate delay, but I promise I thought of you every minute of the flight back.” 

The smaller man squeezed tighter while soft hands caressed his hair.

“You really came back...” Lance gazed up at him with hooded lids. 

“Yes, darling. I did.” 

Their mouths drifted closer. 

“Wait-” Lance shoved him away before their lips could touch.

“Is everything alright?” Lotor inquired.

No, everything was not alright. The seeds of doubt had taken root in Lance’s mind and he wasn’t going to be fooled so easily.

“Are you-” Lance wet his lips. “Are you seeing anyone else?”

Lotor’s eyes widened.

“Where is this coming from?” He chuckled lightly.

“Are you?” Lance pressed. “I mean, it’s fine if you are, I’d just rather know…”

“I don’t know when you think I’d have time, I sleep next to you every night.” The man's hand brushed the side of his Garrison boy’s face.

“Okay, but you’re not, right?” Lance grabbed his palm, scrutinizing him all the more for dodging the question and becoming more and more suspicious of Sven the ostensible massage therapist by the second.

“Of course I’m not,” Lotor said plainly. “I’m exclusive to you.”

“Really? Not even like, I dunno… Sven or something.”

“Sven?” Lotor laughed. “Darling…” His hands settled on Lance’s shoulders. “I know you’ve been hurt by infidelities and dishonesty, so I’ll be clear with you. As attractive as Sven may be - I’m sure you noticed it too - none of our interactions have led me to believe he is even remotely interested in men. And no, there's nobody else either.” He looked between Lance’s eyes, letting it sink in. “Darling, I’m yours. Your partner, boyfriend, lover, whatever you want to call me.”

 _Boyfriend…_ Lance mouthed. It felt weird saying it in this context. The word mapped to someone else in his brain. 

“Partner.” Lance decided. “I’d rather call you my partner.”

“Partner it is, then. I like it. Sounds… serious.” Lotor’s lip quirked.

_Serious…_

If it was so serious then…

“Why didn't you kiss me this morning before you left?”

Lotor looked perplexed again, affronted even, but his expression shifted to one of patience and understanding.

“Because if I had…” He stepped close and settled his hands on Lance’s hips. “I wouldn't have been able to leave.”

“Oh…”

“Lance…” Lotor’s fingers traced under Lance’s chin, tilting his head up. “Can I make up for it now?” He rubbed their noses together but Lance’s eyes didn’t fall shut.

“What was in the bag?”

The man stepped back with a sigh and rubbed his brow, looking even more tired.

“I want to tell you everything, Lance. I don’t want there to be any secrets between us.” He met the other man with honest eyes. “But-” He hesitated. “Not all at once. Not now. I want to make sure you’re ready.” His expression asked for understanding. 

Lance gave it to him in the form of a nod. After all, there were things he wasn’t ready to share either.

“It’s been a long day. Let’s go to bed,” Lotor suggested and loosely took his hand, but Lance hesitated in following him back inside.

But, Lotor, he'd really come back for him… Like he said he would. He’d _kept_ his promise.

“Silver…”

The man about-faced with utmost attention upon hearing that name. 

“The night you put your number in my phone…” Lance continued. “That was the night I fell for you too.” The confession trailed off to barely more than a whisper and Lance brought his brimming eyes up to the man before him.

“Garrison boy…” Lotor’s face softened to the point of pain. He stepped closer, a hand coming to rest on Lance’s face and the other slipping around his waist. He leaned in but remained a gentleman. “May I?” He whispered.

Lance answered by closing the gap between them, pulling Lotor without abandon into the kiss he’d wanted since that morning.

Breathless, Lotor pulled back just enough to look at his face. “Remarkable how after all these years... And the ways we’ve continued to cross paths…” He marveled at the man in his arms. “You almost make me believe in fate.”

Guided by Lotor’s arm, Lance was led back inside, and wrapped in the man’s limbs and sheets, he slept soundly at last.

 

* * * * *

 

Rax had insisted everyone get together to discuss the logistics of the bachelor party, which seemed to Keith like something that could have been handled over email, not that he was complaining. It was an opportunity to see Lance after all and ‘read the room’ as Hunk had suggested. Riding high on nervous energy because he wasn’t going to let himself leave without talking to Lance first, Keith arrived early for the meeting.

Unfortunately, so had Shiro. 

“Oh, it’s you…” Keith had oh-so-smoothly said when he pushed back the door to the co-working space they’d reserved in the back of a local coffee shop only to find it already occupied.

“Keith.” The other man nodded curtly.

They sat on opposite ends of the small meeting room. Keith was on the far side the small couch with his leg crossed away from Shiro while his shunned friend squatted on an ottoman that he’d dragged to the other side of the armchair, as far away as possible. Neither of them spoke after that. In fact, they hadn’t spoken since Keith had given him the cold shoulder during the aftermath of the engagement party. For an uncomfortable number of minutes, it was just the two of them in the meeting space, and with a phone at 3% battery, Keith had nothing to distract himself from how awkward it was. Every tick of the clock was audible. Who the hell used ticking clocks anymore, he griped to himself.

Pidge joined them not long after but Keith’s relief was short lived. She did nothing to dilute the tension but sit on the floor and play a game on her phone with her headphones turned up so loud they could hear every missile fire and explosion. But at least it helped drown out the ticking.

The silence continued until a cheery Hunk showed up with a cooler of snacks and an as-per-usual grumpy Rax in tow. Pidge finally decided to be social once the food came out and Shiro joined in too. Keith stared at the door, forlorn, while the rest of his friends dug in. Where the hell was Lance?

Several minutes of waiting later, Rax stopped pacing in front of the whiteboard and sighed with annoyance. He checked his watch for the third time. They were already ten minutes over the scheduled meeting time. Keith’s knee bounced waiting for the last of their group to show. It wasn’t like him to be late.

“Alright, let’s just get start-” Rax began to say before someone burst through the door.

“Sorry, guys! I’m here!”

“You’re late,” Rax grumbled.

“I hear that’s fashionable nowadays.” Lance flashed a cheesy sideways grin. “Good to see you, Rax.”

Keith sat up straighter watching the exchange. Like Hunk had said, Lance did seem more upbeat. He was also dressed completely differently. Keith had never seen that jacket before- dark and leather possibly? He couldn’t quite put a word to it, but Lance was wearing clothes that looked like they’d come off a mannequin in a department store that was too expensive for him to shop at. His eyes did the up and down though. Distressed denim looked _good_ on Lance's legs.

Everyone grabbed their fair share of crackers and cheese and some sort of delicious pâté Hunk had made then got settled for the meeting. To Keith’s surprise, Lance took a seat right next to him without even saying anything snarky about it.

“H-Hi…” Keith said, a little flabbergasted.

“Oh hey, Keith. Nice haircut.” Lance looked up from his phone briefly.

“Th-Thanks. Keith touched the back of his head, shocked that Lance had one, noticed, and two, said anything about it.

The group delved into bachelor party discussions but Keith struggled to pay attention from that point on. He was busy rehearsing lines in his head for what he was going to say to Lance.

“Bottle service at Shangri-La?” Rax furrowed his brow at Lance's suggestion. “That place might be a little beyond our budget.”

“No, it’s okay,” Lance insisted. “I have a, um... friend. He got me an in. It’s covered.”

“A friend?” Keith was instantly suspicious. Shiro’s eyes lifted from the floor too but he didn’t say anything.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” Lance waved it off then showed Rax the reservation and confirmation email on his phone. “And, he can get us a limo too!” He added, taking a bow while the group - mainly Hunk and Pidge - ‘oooo’-ed and applauded. 

“Wow, well done, McClain.” Rax wore the closest thing to a smile Keith had ever seen on him. “Alright, Shangri-La, two weekends from now. And to be clear…” Rax’s demeanor hardened. “There will be absolutely-”

“No strippers.” Lance finished for him. “We got it, buddy. Loud and clear.” He shot Rax a finger gun.

Keith peered sideways at the man next to him. _Much_ more upbeat. 

Final plans were nailed down and Keith could feel his pulse in his ears when Rax adjourned the meeting. He was almost grateful Lance got up to talk to Hunk right away. It gave him time to get ahold of himself.

He caught Shiro glancing at him and was reminded that there were other fences to be mended. Deciding to get the other uncomfortable conversation out of the way, Keith reluctantly crossed the room.

“Hey…” He said and leaned against an arm of the cushy armchair a safe distance from Shiro.

“Decided you’re talking to me again, huh?” Arms folded, Shiro was a bit standoffish. Keith figured he probably deserved that.

“Look, I know I kinda dropped off the face of the earth and that things have been weird...” He kept an eye on Lance and Hunk while they talked. “But I’ve been thinking of coming by the gym again. To work… As a coach.” He’d tried applying to other gyms in the area but without any experience or credentials to speak of, he’d been laughed away on the spot. 

Shiro’s face remained impassive but his unwavering gaze told Keith he was listening. 

“If um, if the offers still open, that is…” Keith was faltering under Shiro’s stare. “Look, I could really use the money.”

Shiro’s lip twitched and the rest of his expression cracked with it.

“Alright, maybe we can work something out,” he sighed almost reluctantly.

“It’d have to be just as your employee.” Keith warned. “I mean-”

“Believe me, Keith. I get it. You’d work for me, and that’s it.” Shiro’s face remained stern. “Come by next weekend for a trial and we’ll see how you do.” He got up to leave.

“A trial?”

“It’s how I hire all my coaches.” Shiro didn't smile.

“Oh… Okay.” Keith got the message. No special treatment. And he was okay with that. “Next weekend, then. Thanks.”

 

On the other side of the room, Lance quietly confronted Hunk with an issue he’d been wrestling with.

“Hey Hunk, there’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.”

“Yeah? What’s up, buddy?” Hunk asked as he packed up the cooler.

“Do you think it’d be a problem if I brought someone to your wedding?” Lance kept his voice down so potentially volatile parties present in the room wouldn’t hear.

“Like a date?” Hunk stood up straighter and blinked at him.

“Shhh!” Lance hushed him then cringed through a nod.

“Oh boy, that could get awkward and… explosive.” Hunk rubbed his head, overwhelmed by visions of Keith and Lance’s date fighting to the death over the bouquet.

“Yeah, I figured I should ask you first.”

“I mean, sure, as long as it doesn’t cause a scene?”

They both glanced doubtfully at Keith.

“Buddy, you gotta give him a heads up. Do _not_ drop that bomb on him on my wedding day.” Hunk made his serious face.

“Ugh, yeah… I know.” Lance rubbed his face, full of dread but knew Hunk was right. “I'll talk to him or something if I decide to actually go through with it.”

“So who’s the lucky lady?” Hunk ribbed him. “Is it serious?”

“Hunk…” Lance gave him a look and waited.

_3… 2… 1…_

Hunk blinked.

“Oh… Oh, it’s not a lady, is it?”

Lance wore the biggest smirk while he shook his head.

Hunk laughed and punched him in the shoulder anyways. “Good for you, man.”

 

Keith lingered after he’d finished with Shiro, nibbling on a last bit of cracker and waiting for the other man he wanted to talk to. He watched Lance wrap up his conversation with Hunk then go back to texting on his phone. Everyone else had already left. They were alone, and Keith saw his opportunity.

 _He sat next to you on the couch..._

_He noticed your haircut..._

_Just go for it!_

Keith talked himself up to it while he approached Lance.

_Act like you deserve it…_

_Act like you deserve it..._

He tapped Lance on the shoulder and to his surprise, the other man didn’t immediately recoil.

“Hey... Can I talk to you for a minute?” Keith’s mouth felt full of cotton.

“Sure, what’s up?” Lance didn’t look up from his phone for more than a second.

“Um… Well, it’s been a while. I was thinking maybe we could get coffee or something.”

“Coffee, huh?” Lance kept typing.

“Yeah. I can tell you how Red's been doing and maybe we could… talk?”

“Talk…” Lance repeated, still typing.

“Yeah, you know... About us?”

Lance’s eyes snapped up from his screen. “Oh, you meant, like, _talk._ ”

“Yeah.” Keith gulped through his rapidly falling-away confidence. 

_Act like you deserve it..._

_Act like you deserve it…_

Lance’s eyes flitted around the room. “Um, Jeez… I don’t know if now is such a good time-”

“Oh, I mean, it doesn’t have to be right this second.” Keith forced a casual smile. “Like maybe in a few days or even-”

“No, I mean…” Lance brushed the back of his head in a way that made Keith nervous. “Ah, shit, Keith…” 

Keith did not like the look in his eyes. 

_Act like you deserve it…_

_Act like you..._

“I’m kinda seeing somebody,” Lance said.

_deserve…_

_...it._

Keith’s core tightened like he’d sustained a mean punch to the gut. He blinked, processing what he’d just heard.

“Oh… You’re- Um… Okay... I mean, that’s- Ah- G-Good for you.” Keith forced a smile with all his might as images of the tall woman Lance had been dancing with at the engagement party surged into his mind. He tried to keep the appearance of an inflated rib cage while his insides deflated like a pricked balloon. “Well, ah… She’s- She’s lucky.” He cringed at how obvious he was being.

“Ah- He, actually,” Lance corrected and couldn’t look at Keith when he did it.

“What?” Keith genuinely could not parse what had been said to him.

“He,” Lance said again. “It’s a guy. I’m... seeing a guy.” He forced a split-second of eye contact.

‘Oh...’ was the barely audible sound Keith made.

“Ah, it’s- it’s not serious or anything, yet…” Lance looked almost guilty but Keith was too distraught to notice.

 _Yet? YET??_ Keith’s abs crunched so hard he nearly doubled over.

“Yeah, um... Maybe now isn’t the right time to talk.” He hugged his elbows and looked away. From the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Lance’s shoulders slump slightly but didn’t adjust his gaze to be sure.

“Keith, I- I’m sorry…”

Keith shook his head. It was ridiculous for Lance to be apologizing. He had every right. Keith wanted to tell him that but his mouth failed to form the words.

Lance’s phone buzzed with a call a moment later, putting Keith, who was too shell-shocked to properly extricate himself from the situation, out of his misery.

“I gotta take this. It was good seeing you, Keith.”

The goodbye quality of the squeeze Lance left on his arm shook Keith to the core. He watched Lance answer his cell phone as he left the room, heard him giggle happily in the hallway outside and banter with what Keith assumed was the _man_ in question on the other end of the line. Keith was still frozen with shock and disbelief. He’d never felt so far away before, like he was on another planet in an entirely different solar system, totally alone and invisible.

 

Somehow Keith’s legs got him back to his car where he sat in the front seat staring through the windshield, dumbfounded. It had started to rain but he didn’t even notice.

_He..._

Lance was dating a guy. 

A guy that wasn’t him.

It had finally happened. Not his worst fear, something one shade darker. Something he hadn’t even considered a possibility. Keith had long-feared the inevitable - of losing Lance to a girl if they ever broke up - but he was in no way prepared for the utter emotional devastation of Lance being with another man over him. He didn’t blink but tears started spilling down his cheeks. A few shaky breaths later, his chest heaved and he lurched forward over the steering wheel.

Some other guy? How could he… 

Keith didn’t even know who this guy was but he wanted to fight him. He hated him. Hated him just as much as he’d hated… Nema? Nyra? He couldn’t even remember the name of the girl Lance had been with before him.

The _girl_ Lance had been with before him...

And so it was that Keith experienced a bitter epiphany. It wasn’t the fact that Lance had been with a lot of girls over the years that he hated. It wasn’t the heterosexuality or _normalness_ of it that bothered him, that had prompted so many of his snide remarks. No... It had been the fact that Lance wasn't with him. Girl, boy, or something in between, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered if Lance wasn’t with him. For the first time, Keith truly understood Lance’s bisexuality and how much of a dick he’d been about it. 

Slumped against the steering wheel, inconsolable, his frame racked with regretful sobs. He was losing him. He was losing Lance. And Keith couldn’t field an argument that he didn’t deserve it. So what if he’d cleaned up his apartment and gotten his life a little more together? Lance was going to come back to him because, what, he’d _acted_ like he deserved it?

What utter bullshit!

Keith’s fist slammed into the dashboard. He didn’t… He really didn’t deserve Lance. Not after he’d been the worst boyfriend in the history of boyfriends. And nothing was ever going to make up for that.

Nothing.

 

On account of the light rain that had started to fall from the sky, Lance waited inside the coffee shop for his ride, humming to himself and swaying in place. Since they’d talked the other night, he and Lotor had been texting non-stop whenever they were apart and that man was _very_ good at flirting via chat.

A dark, sleek Bugatti with shaded windows pulled up to the curb and pulsed its lights. Lance saw it and made his way outside. As he was heading towards it, he spied his old Corolla not far away in the parking lot. His steps slowed. Someone was hunched over the steering wheel and by their heaving shoulders, obviously upset.

“Keith…” Lance’s feet turned to the car and he stumbled a few paces towards it. But he stopped. He couldn’t. It wasn’t his job to make sure Keith was okay anymore. Still, he hadn’t meant to upset him like that, but it was sort of inevitable, right? Maybe he should have just lied or not corrected the pronoun. Hell, maybe he should have just gotten coffee with Keith and let him down easy. Or maybe even... Not let him down at all...

Another flash and a honk reminded him that someone was waiting, and as much as his heart ached to do it, Lance turned away from the man crying in his car and headed towards his ride. He silently climbed into the waiting car and let the long-haired man behind the wheel peck him on the cheek. 

Lance watched the rain hitting the windshield as they drove away. Something in him remained conflicted. He thunked his skull back against the headrest. Sometimes he didn't know what the hell he was doing anymore.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Lotor remarked several minutes later.

“Pull over,” Lance said, not lifting his eyes from the road.

“Oh? Can’t wait ‘til we get home, hmm?” Lotor flirted. 

“That’s not it.”

Seeing the severity of his stone-faced passenger, the man driving turned on the hazards and pulled into the shoulder at the next opportunity.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” Lotor turned to him, concerned, and gently thumbed his fingers through his hair. 

Lance flinched at his touch and didn’t answer right away.

“Is this about your ex?” Lotor guessed. “You know I don’t like the idea of you being around him. You always come back upset. Say the word and I’ll get rid of him.”

Lance’s eyes flashed. “I will never forgive you if you hurt Keith!”

“So you’ve said. And I’ve already promised not to lay a finger on him.” Lotor held up his hands that he intended no harm. “Now what is troubling you?”

“I don’t…” Lance swallowed, choosing his words carefully while Lotor waited patiently. “I don’t want to be dead weight.” 

“Dead weight? What on Earth-”

“Let me work for you. I want to be useful. I want to be part of the team.”

“You _are_ part of the team. Darling, my world has been better since the moment you stepped into it. Isn’t that enough?”

Lance pulled away from the hand trying to soften him up.

“You want to join my gang…” Lotor sighed.

“Yes.” Lance did not share in his reluctance.

Lotor’s eyes danced through the cloudy skies while he dragged a hand through his hair.

“There are certain matters I’ve been hesitant to involve you in. For your own safety. I would never forgive myself if-”

“I know the risks. I want in.” Lance shifted to properly face the man across the car. “I want to be a part of this with you.”

Lotor recognized the determination in those blue eyes.

“Alright,” he agreed tepidly. “You're still using Shangri-La for your friends bachelor party?

“Yeah…”

Lotor slowly smiled. “Then I have just the task we can start you with.”

Lance managed a small smile too.

“Anything else, darling?” Lotor asked sweetly, stroking his passenger’s still troubled face.

The thought of asking him to be his date to Hunk’s wedding was milling in the back of Lance’s mind, but he held off.

“No. That’s it.”

“Well then, Garrison boy...” Lotor revved the engine and kicked the car into gear. “We have much to discuss.”

The clutch was engaged and the Bugatti took off down the road, whisking away the man in the passenger seat and leaving wet tire tracks in its wake.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's two steps forward, one step back for Keith. One of the worst parts of a breakup is finding out that your ex who-you’re-totally-not-over-yet is with someone new. Poor Keith. I know he hasn’t garnered a lot of sympathy with some of you, but damn... :’( (Don't worry, he's gonna bounce back.)
> 
> Okay, but who’s in deep here? Is it Lance, who is doubling down hard on the rebound, or is it actually/also… Lotor? I was kinda surprised by this as I was writing, but he’s got it _bad_ for his Garrison boy.
> 
> On a happier note, please welcome SVEN THE MASSAGE THERAPIST to the PDR-verse! (Oh ho ho... yes, I did. Yoo hoo and all!) Also, how mad would you all have been if that happy ending I’ve been promising you had happened on that massage table? xD xD (YES, THERE’S STILL A REAL HAPPY ENDING! jfjfjfjjsjsjfjdk This is my humor, I’m sorry...)
> 
> Did any of you remember Lance hooked up with Nyma right before he got with Keith way back in PDR? Does anyone remember PDR anymore… o_o;;;
> 
> Thank you for reading, folks! I’m excited to get started on the next update because it is a _doozy._ You think things are messy now? Hue hue hue… Get ready. Shit is about to hit the fan.
> 
> Next chapter: **No Good for You**
> 
>    
>  **Art/visuals**
> 
> [This](https://enjayas.tumblr.com/post/180164469644/huh-posting-this-here-because-i-need-to-be) was the inspiration for Keith's 'huh?' face.
> 
> [“Speed bumps”](https://enjayas.tumblr.com/post/180164722609/nsfw-rendering-of-lotors-piercings-under-the-cut) \- Lotor’s piercings. -NSFW- It’s literally a drawing of his dick. Thanks sihaya-art. :P


	12. No Good For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things have been getting messy in the PDR AU, and it’s about to get so much worse! Keith just found out Lance is seeing someone new, but he doesn't know who… _yet._ As the group gathers for Hunk's bachelor party, lingering emotions between Keith and Lance come to a head. Sparks - of more than one variety - fly, and Keith isn’t going down without a fight.
> 
> In this chapter:  
> \- Somebody gets called out  
> \- Somebody has a meltdown  
> \- Somebody finds out everything
> 
> Oh, yes... *rubs hands together* The downward spiral has finally begun.
> 
>  **Potential Trigger Warning: Drug use.**  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my birthday~ Have an update!  
> (It is a _miracle_ that this got done in time.) 
> 
> The song they dance to is [“Be the One”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mgI_pH8TOVY) by Dua Lipa, in case you want to have it handy. It was sent my way by Figandmelon. Much thanks for the inspiration~
> 
> Alright, enjoy BIRTHDAY UPDATE and some painful Klance slow burn. I'm off to eat Korean food!

  


**_LSD_ has added _GarrisonBoy_ to the chat.**

-Lezzyezzy: yaaaay! Lance is here!

-theMuscle: ‘bout time you showed up

GarrisonBoy: uh… hi.

\---nartnart: *waves*

-battleAcxa: The vote to have you was not unanimous.  
-battleAcxa: Don’t make us regret it.

\-------LSD: Acxa. Play nice.  
\-------LSD: E and Z will get you onboarded. Start him off easy, girls. Perhaps with dead drops?

-Lezzyezzy: oooo DDs are fun! only minimal risk of death!

-theMuscle: She’s kidding. Kind of.

\---Nartnart: *snorts*

GarrisonBoy: o_o

-theMuscle: Don’t worry kid, you’re gonna be fine. You’ll be one of us in no time.

-Lezzyezzy: one of us! one of us! one of us!

-battleAcxa: /eyeroll 

-Lezzyezzy: does he know about the tattoo yet?

GarrisonBoy: the what now?

-Lezzyezzy: you’ll see, Lancey Lance. you’ll see. >:3

 

\---------------------

 

Two weeks later. The night before the bachelor party.

 

Clad in dark colors and with a scarf obscuring the bottom half of his face, a long-legged man traversed a narrow aisle of lockers in a dimly-lit storage facility. A black, unmarked duffel bag hung heavy at his side. Buzzing from the failing halogen lights overhead and the click of his boots on the cement floor were the only sounds his straining ears could pick up. His blue eyes remained alert and unblinking until he reached the console where a gloved hand entered a five-digit code into the screen. 

There was a beep and a door swung open at eye-level down the way. Boots scuffed along the floor as he moved towards it. Inside the square but deep locker, he found a lumpy package. He didn’t touch it, scanning it instead with a black light on a keychain flashlight, searching for the barcode. It appeared in the bottom corner, the Galra insignia just beside it. The leggy man lifted his phone, bringing the barcode to center-screen. A click followed by a mechanical mechanism could be heard coming from the locker and his phone screen lit up green. It was now safe to remove. The safety mechanism - needles, blades, pepper spray, and god knows what else that would shoot out of the locker ensuring the DNA of whoever touched the package was collected if it was disturbed prematurely - was deactivated.

Lance heaved with muted relief. His heart had beat rapidly the first time he’d executed a dead drop, but he was four or five in now and his nerves more attuned.

He swapped the package for the duffel bag and activated it’s barcode, turning his phone screen red. Carefully, very carefully, he shut the locker door again. 

There were two things that could be in the bag, as Zethrid had explained: a designer drug known as Quintessence, street name five-E, or blood. Cloned blood. 

Quintessence, a more potent form of cocaine with mildly hallucinogenic properties known to dilate the user’s pupils to cat-like slits at peak effectiveness was the hottest new party drug on the scene. Before missions the generals and Lotor snorted a less-active form of it to keep them alert, bolster their strength, and enhance their night vision. Lotor hadn’t let Lance dose up yet. He was still in training, after all.

The blood was a product of the research lab housed in Sincline General. With precise monocolonal antibodies and other molecules tailored for the receiving individual’s exact illness, the word miracle drug had been tossed around. Less illegal than Quintessence, it was more frowned upon by the FDA, but, as Lotor had insisted, there was no point in waiting for official approval when it could save lives now.

Lance didn’t know which was in the bag - his only form of plausible deniability. Was he saving lives with that drop or giving a group of rich party kids with more money than sense a reason to dose up? He wasn’t sure he cared anymore. One funded the other so it was all for the greater good in the end, right? It was best not to think about it too hard.

He gave the locker one more push to make sure it was securely shut then pulled the scarf from his face to radio in. 

“Payload has embarked. I’m heading out.”

He retrieved the package from the floor - Lance knew what was inside that one. Payment. In what form exactly, he hadn't asked, but if there was one thing Acxa had impressed upon him, it was that there’d be hell to pay if he lost that parcel. He tucked it safely under his arm and made for the rendezvous point where Lotor would pick him up. At least he hoped it would be Lotor. One time Acxa had retrieved him and Lance swore if it weren’t for the envelope containing their payment, he might not have made it back that night. Acxa was terrifying and not shy with a gun when she was high.

Thankfully, it _was_ Lotor who picked him up. And in yet another car Lance had never seen before - This one a silver BMW with switchblade doors. Pistons hissed when they opened and Lance flicked his eyebrows, rather liking the black trim on the chassis. He swooped inside pulling the door down with him.

“You have the-”

“Right here.” He handed Lotor the package before he could fully ask for it. 

“Excellent! Another flawless transfer. I expect no less from my Garrison boy.” Lotor presented him with accolades and firm kiss.

“Nice wheels.” Lance flashed a cheeky grin and stretched his arms up, tucking them behind his head.

“An i8 Spyder, limited edition.” Lotor patted the dash. “You like this one?” 

“Hell yeah!” Lance cried, inspecting the intricate instrument panel and array of backlit buttons.

“I’m particularly happy to hear that.” Lotor smiled. “It’s… new. A gift of sorts.” The top of the dash and steering wheel were stroked lovingly.

“A gift? From who?” Lance was oddly curious and maybe a tad concerned that someone else was vying for Lotor’s attention. The name Sven came to mind.

“ _For whom_ is the question you should be asking.” Lotor’s lip quirked. 

Lance blinked at the riddle.

“And the answer is…” Gentle fingers stroked the back of Lance’s head. “For someone who’s been working exceptionally hard lately and is a wonderful asset to this team.”

A key appeared dangling in front of Lance’s eyes close enough to make him go cross-eyed.

“Lotor, what-”

The man smiled broadly at the shock on his Garrison boy’s face. He brought the key down, holding it in the flat of his palm and urging him to take it.

“Really? F-For me?” Lance tentatively reached for the key. “No, No, it’s too much. I- I can’t… I don’t know how I would even-” 

“It is but a fraction of the business you’ve brought me.” Lotor cut short his refusals. “Now, tell me, Lance…” He brandished the smile of a temptress. “Would you like to drive her home?”

Lance gaped at the man next to him.

Yes. The answer was yes, please and thank you very much!

Seats were swapped and a brown-haired man settled into the driver’s seat. Breathless, he traced his fingers along the outside of the leather steering wheel then looked to the man next to him for reassurance. It was readily granted in the form of a nod. 

A sideways grin twitched to life. The BMW’s lights flashed on, the engine revved, and with an exuberant cry, pedal hit metal sending the car speeding off into the night with it’s new owner at the helm.

 

\-----

 

To his surprise, Keith didn't backslide as badly as he thought he would. Fresh on the heels of a painful realization - that he’d been a terrible boyfriend and not just because he’d cheated - he'd been upset and weighed down with guilt. But if Lance thought he was going to take the news of him dating someone new lying down… Think again. Fueled by jealous fires, Keith was more focused on self-improvement than ever, determined to show Lance that he _could_ be better, that he _was_ better. Whoever this new guy was, he’d better get ready because Keith was prepared for war. And Hunk’s bachelor party was going to be the first battle ground.

He already had an outfit picked out. Skin-tight skinny jeans that had never failed to catch Lance’s eye - or hands, a dark red button-up that was a touch too short for his torso - chances of exposed midriff, high, and a pair of black, ankle-high laced boots - scuffed not shiny, for added danger. He’d put it on every day that week, experimenting with different hairstyles and had eventually decided to just keep it simple. A mildly unkempt mullet had never steered him wrong before.

He turned in front of the mirror, admiring his reflection. 

A look at the time had him hastily scrambling out of the clothes he planned to wow Lance with that night. There was something else he had to do first.

 

“Coach Keith reporting for duty.” He saluted Shiro upon arrival for his scheduled trial as a coach.

The trainer and gym owner ducked out of the equipment closet and looked him up and down without smiling.

“ _Assistant_ coach,” Shiro corrected and didn’t seem to appreciate the humor. He went back to rummaging in the closet.

Keith’s confidence took a hit. Shiro wasn’t going to make this easy for him, but he wasn’t deterred. Instead of waiting off to the side until he was given something to do like he normally would…

“You need help with that?” He offered.

“Yeah. Set these cones up for drills.” A heavy stack of traffic cones was foisted on him. Keith staggered under their weight but took it in stride. After all, he’d come knowing Shiro wasn’t going to cut him any slack or show him special treatment. He had to earn his place. The days of riding on Shiro’s adoration for him were over.

Keith shadowed Shiro through a personal training session then worked tirelessly through two kids classes. He was dismayed to hear there was a third one on the way. Shiro had been ruthless with him. Keith was mentally comparing him to a drill sergeant, but the kids seemed to think it was hysterical to watch him ‘drop and give Shiro fifty’ in the middle of a game of tag they were playing. It wasn’t until Nora, a girl not five or six that was particularly fond of her Coach Keith, squealed and latched onto his leg as soon as she’d walked in the door that Shiro’s face softened.

But it was short lived.

“Alright, kids. Lineup!” Shiro commanded. “For warmups, you’re gonna catch Coach Keith.” 

Shiro blew his whistle and Keith nearly laid down on the floor and wept.

A sweaty, destroyed mess by the end of the morning, Keith was starving because he hadn’t eaten enough for breakfast. He was feeling much less sexy than he had in the mirror earlier to boot. But he remembered why he was there. Bent over with his hands on his knees, he waited until Shiro saw the last client out.

“So did I get the job?” He asked with tired but earnest eyes.

Shiro gave him a stern look that left Keith’s confidence faltering but finally he cracked a smile.

“Of course you got the job.” He mussed up Keith’s hair and pushed his head to the side before walking away.

“Really?” Keith trailed behind him. “Don’t just give it to me because-”

“Keith, you’re great with the kids, and I’ve told you before, you have a knack for this. Now come on, I have paperwork for you to fill out.” 

Keith followed him to his office in the back.

“I paid you before at a regular coaches rate because you were filling in. I can't start you at that. But how does forty an hour sound?”

“ _Forty-_ ” Keith nearly choked. Compared to the measly $8.75 an hour he was making at the diner, it was a fortune. Even taking tips into account, it didn't even compare. “Uh, yeah, I think I can make that work.” He played it cool.

“I pay my people well so we can have the best. Welcome aboard, Assistant Coach Kogane.” Shiro smiled warmly and extended his hand to him. Keith shook it firmly then raced off to a the diner.

After scarfing down his last plate of eggs and bacon, Keith quit on the spot. It was good timing too. His evening shift would have conflicted with Hunk's bachelor party and the manager was being a dick about giving him the time off. As he was hanging up his apron for the last time, Keith realized it was the first job he'd ever left voluntarily that hadn't involved rage quitting or an exchange of expletives. An odd feeling took ahold of him and it took him a minute to recognize it as pride. He was. He was proud of himself. Things were finally starting to fall into place.

It left him walking taller and with a skip in his step. It was a good thing too; He needed all the confidence he could get because that night he intended to make Lance think twice about whoever the hell it was that he was dating. He had to stop things before it got too serious. And knowing Lance’s tendency to fall head-first into relationships, Keith suspected he didn’t have a lot of time left. An outfit waiting for him at home, Keith was ready to make Lance remember what he was missing.

 

\----

 

“Alright, darling, you’re all set for tonight.” In their shared bedroom, Lotor helped Lance into his jacket and stood behind him while he looked at himself in an ornate, full-length mirror. “Zethrid will pick you and your friends up and take you to the venue.” He lifted a small bag from his pocket. Lance watched him in the mirror. “Now this is very important.” Lotor spun Lance in place so he faced him. “You _must_ stay sober until you’ve handed off the sample. After that you can have all the fun with your friends you want, but things can happen and I want you to have your full wits about you in case anything does.”

“What might happen?” Lance asked as he nervously accepted the dimebag.

“Probably nothing. You’re not carrying enough to be at any real risk. It’s just best practices,” he explained, dusting off Lance's sleeves.

“Okay…” Lance tucked the commodity into his jacket’s inner pocket then pressed it safely to his chest.

“Now, if anything goes wrong, use this.” Lotor handed him a flip phone. “The direct line to our telecom is already programmed into it. We can be there in a moment’s notice.”

Lance took the device. “Thanks again for getting us VIP and all that.”

“My pleasure. Now go, have a nice evening with your friends.” Lotor kissed his cheek then left him to it.

Lance looked at his reflection again and tried to be optimistic about the ways in which his two worlds might collide.

 

**Private chat**

Lotor: The potential buyer... GB will be handling it.

Acxa: You’re really going to risk a hefty cashflow on the Garrison boy??  
Acxa: There’s no way he’s ready for that!

Lotor: He’s ready. But I want you in place as backup.

Acxa: See? Even you don’t trust him.

Lotor: They’re meeting at ShangRi-La. Tonight. Be in the area.

Lotor: Acxa?

Acxa: As you wish, sir.

 

\----

 

Dressed in the outfit he'd had ready for the better part of a week and with freshly combed straggles at the back of his head, Keith arrived early at Hunk’s place where they were meeting for the Bachelor party. Everyone else was already there, except Lance. Fashionably late seemed to be his new thing. The sun had gone down and dusk was starting to set in when a shiny BMW with the license plate ‘❤S1LV3R’ pulled up to the curb.

“Who the hell?” Keith peered through the blinds at the sound of a noisy engine.

“Great the annoying one is here. We can get going soon,” Rax griped, getting up from a chair in the corner.

“No, he doesn’t drive a-” Keith promptly ate his words as the aforementioned man materialized out of a winged door dressed in a suit that did not look cheap either. 

“Who the hell is that? That can’t be my best man coming out of a car like that!” Hunk happily greeted his friend from the front door. Everyone spilled outside to watch him share a back-slapping hug with the man that had just arrived. “Those are some sweet wheels, buddy, but I thought we were getting a limo.”

“We are. This is just my new ride,” Lance announced, smugly swinging his keys around a finger.

“Is that an i8?!” Pidge’s eyes grew wide as she got closer to it. “A plug-in hybrid turbo charged luxury sports car with an electronically controlled max-speed of 155 miles per hour??” She circled the vehicle like she was seeing a unicorn. “Lance, what the fuck? This is a two-hundred thousand dollar car!”

“Eh, I’ve been working.” Lance brushed it off.

“Just how much are they paying you at the Garrison?” Hunk pondered his friend. “Because I know what they pay me, and I can’t afford that.”

“Well, it’s not like I have a wedding or a house to pay for, so...” Lance dodged the truth. He hadn’t made an appearance at the Garrison in weeks. He'd never checked his email to be sure, but he’d probably been terminated somewhere along the line.

“Uh, how exactly do you plan on driving that thing home? You’re gonna be drinking and knowing you - a lot.” Keith pointed out, a bit miffed over the dig at there being no wedding to pay for.

“Little known fact, Keith, I _can_ actually be responsible when I want to be,” Lance needled back. “And I am the best man, after all. I have to make sure it’s Hunk here who ends up nice and wasted.” Lance gripped his betrothed friend’s shoulders with mischief in his eyes.

Keith’s face fell. His plan to draw Lance’s attention was going to be a lot more difficult if he wasn’t going to be drinking.

“I’ll probably stay sober too. Just in case,” Shiro added.

“Like hell I’m letting you drive my car, even if I am drunk off my ass!” Lance snorted under his breath. 

Oblivious to the conversations going on outside, Pidge rubbed her hands together in the front seat where she was inspecting the automobile's instrumentation. “I bet I can hack it to go faster…” 

“Let’s go, squirt.” Lance had to drag her from the BMW’s cockpit when the limo arrived.

 

The ride to the club got off to an awkward start. Lance and Pidge pretty much ignored Shiro, and the shunned man stayed off to the side looking almost as unhappy as Rax about being there. Keith even leaned over at one point to ask him if he was okay but quickly distanced himself when Lance’s eye twitched at them. Keith knew he was going to have to avoid Shiro at all costs that night. He cast an apologetic look down the limo to which Shiro nodded that he understood. The four old friends poured champagne and enjoyed a good time while Shiro and Rax tacitly agreed to not make small talk with each other. 

Across from Hunk and Pidge, Keith had made sure he ended up next to Lance and used the close quarters as an excuse to sit near enough that the sides of their legs touched. Rather than sulking and watching Lance be the life of the party, Keith was trying on a new tactic: actively engaging. With a smile on his face, he pretended that the breakup wasn’t still weighing him down.

“Alright, gentleman! And Pidge...” Lance liberally refilled their glasses and topped up the sparkling cider in his own. “It’s time to celebrate the man of the hour! TO HUNK!” He raised his glass.

“TO HUNK!” Everyone cried. 

“Stories!” Lance declared. “Let’s hear ‘em. Good ones, bad ones, ones you can’t tell at the wedding.” He put on a sneaky sideways grin. “It’s time to dish the dirt on our favorite sweet cinnamon roll!”

“Oh, god…” The man for whom they’d all gathered eyed his future brother-in-law, nervously. “Nothing too damning, okay?”

“Earliest memory,” Lance prompted. “Hunk, pick someone!”

“Uh… Uh… Keith!” The nervous man shouted. It seemed like a safe bet.

“Huh? My earliest memory? Of Hunk? Uh…” Keith frantically tried to recall how they’d become friends. He wasn’t the fastest at thinking on his feet. “Well, there was the time I fucked up with the Bunsen burner in chem class and Hunk just happened to be in the line of fire…”

“So _that’s_ why my year wasn't allowed to use Bunsen burners...” Pidge finally put it together.

“I remember that!” Lance laughed. “Hunk had no eyebrows for weeks! Good one, Keith. A solid start.” He slapped his back.

Keith smiled to himself, pleased with the reaction and the return to normalcy. For a moment there, it was almost like his world hadn’t been shattered.

“Speaking of science…” Pidge cockily adjusted her glasses. “Hunk and I were banned from being partners in the science fair after we obliterated the competition my freshman year with our selectively bred and possibly-sentient slime mold.”

“Oh yeah! We created an algorithm to train it to solve mazes.” Hunk remembered fondly.

“It’s still the only science project to ever be confiscated and labeled ‘classified’.” Pidge crossed her arms proudly. “I’m not saying it could solve a maze with higher statistical accuracy than a computer, buuuuuut…”

“It could totally solve a maze with higher statistical accuracy than a computer,” Hunk boasted behind his hand. 

“Hell yeah, Team Punk!” They double high-fived.

“Ladies and gentlemen, our resident geniuses.” Lance gestured at them while they took a bow. 

“Alright how ‘bout something a little more risqué.” Pidge decided to make things more interesting. “Lance, you lived with Hunk the longest. Did you ever hear him… you know?” She waggled her eyebrows.

“Jeez, Pidge, I’ve been sitting on a sweet story about how Hunk, here, was the first person I came out to, but since you twisted my arm…” He smirked at the increasingly nervous man across from him. “It is well-documented that the walls in Casa de Lunk were pretty damn thin, and Hunk and Shay were very much in love right from the get-go...” 

“Watch it, McClain. That’s my sister he’s marrying,” Rax warned.

Lance quickly topped off the abrasive man’s glass. 

“But I have to say, I think it was more Hunk who was scandalized by sounds of seduction, if you know what I mean.” Lance’s sideways grin made an appearance.

“I’ll say.” Hunk laughed. “Keith, I love you, but you are not a quiet man.”

Keith blushed mildly but looked more proud than anything. “I mean, I can be loud if there’s a good reason to be.” He knocked his knee into Lance’s, making him sputter into his sparkling cider.

“And you know, I never let on, but I could always tell when Hunk heard us,” Keith continued. “Because the next morning he’d be cooking crepes - _always_ crepes - and offer us some with this mildly constipated look on his face.”

“Is _that_ why we ate so many crepes?” Lance was only just realizing.

“I did not always cook crepes when- Oh… Oh, wow, did I?” Hunk curled forward with horror. “Ugh, I’ll never look at a crepe the same way again.”

“Now that you mention it, Keith…” Lance tilted his head thoughtfully. “It was crepes for us, waffles for Jenny, and blueberry pancakes for particularly raucous one-night stands.” He listed it off on his fingers. “Wait, scratch that- blueberry pancakes if it was a guy and _strawberry_ if it was a girl. Hunk, you subconscious sexist!” Lance thwacked him playfully and the back of the limo erupted with laughter. “I’m guessing the cheese blintzes were for when you couldn’t tell?”

“Cheese blintzes? Why!” Pidge cackled so hard she was nearly crying.

“No. No, no, no. I will not let you ruin cheese blintzes for me,” Hunk protested over the laughter. 

“Yeah, I like to think I’m the reason Hunk perfected his breakfast-time confectionary skills,” Lance gloated.

“Hmph. Get around much, McClain?” Rax jabbed.

“Just enough, thank you.” Lance shot back.

Rax shook his head then turned to the man who had mostly stayed out of story time.

“What about you? You haven’t said anything.” 

Shiro looked mildly uncomfortable at being singled out.

“Ah, well... I have to say, watching you four go through the Garrison together, Hunk was definitely the least trouble of all of you.” Shiro’s smile flickered over Pidge, Keith, and Lance. “But he always had your backs even if it meant he got dragged into the mess too. All of you did, actually. I was only on the fringes of your friend group, but it was obvious how much you were there for each other. And well, I hope you always will be. I hope you won’t forget what it means to have friends like that.” He lifted his glass. 

“Cheers to that! Friends ‘til the end!” Hunk raised his glass too. “And to Shiro, who was always the responsible adult we could go to if we were ever in a bind. He’d know what to do _and_ make sure we didn’t get in trouble for it.”

“Well, I tried to be,” Shiro smiled wryly. “Can’t say I’ve been perfect, but it’s an honor to even be included here, Hunk. Really, thank you.”

Lance cleared his throat.

“Hey, how about that time Hunk accidentally ate a whole batch of pot brownies?”

“Ugh, worst 72 hours of my life!” Hunk groaned. “Those brownies betrayed me!”

 

They arrived at ShangRi-La. The name was in bright, flashing lights out front where the limo pulled up. A hostess led them to a private, roped off area where they marveled at the high-end table and massive bottle of vodka that was waiting for them. The VIP section was less crowded and the music wasn’t as overpowering too.

Lance bounced into the booth first, popped the liquor open, and began lining up shots. “Hunk, this is in your honor.”

The rest of the group piled in too. Keith of course sat next to Lance again and noticed that Rax was slow to sit down. He passed it off as just Rax being anti-social, but the odd-man-out’s eyes continued to roam around the place. He seemed affronted by the giant rainbow flag hanging behind the main bar and sneered at the surplus of men on the dance floor.

“McClain!” The group still getting settled fell silent. “You seriously…” Rax clenched his fists and took a moment to contain himself. “You brought us to a _gay bar_ for my future brother-in-law’s bachelor party? Do you think _anything_ through?”

Lance set the bottle he was pouring from down and squared to the man who had been open about his distaste for him since day one.

“Well, Rax, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but everyone on Hunk’s side of this wedding party isn’t exactly straight - except for you of course.”

“Wait, what? You’re all-”

“Yeah, I’m bi, Keith’s gay, Shiro is… I dunno, in love with pretty much everybody, and Pidge is dating Maria, so...”

Rax looked like he didn’t know what to say.

“I also figured, since you were so against strippers, that you wouldn’t want there to be a sea of single women vying for your future brother-in-law’s attention right before he ties the knot. _Additionally,_ ” Lance went on, hitting him with a harsh stare. “Hunk asked Shay out for the first time _at_ a gay bar. So yeah, actually I _did_ think this through.”

Pidge slow clapped and Keith whistled low at the shut down. Even Shiro smirked a little.

“O-Oh…” Rax looked embarrassed for the first time. “Yeah, that’s a good point. Several good points, actually. Good- Good job.” He gave Lance an awkward thumbs-up then excused himself muttering something about finding the coat check.

Lance crossed his arms victoriously.

“Damn! You told him!” Pidge slugged his shoulder.

“Yeah, he kinda had that coming,” Hunk admitted reluctantly. “But seriously, can you go easy on him? I have to deal with him as long as my marriage lasts, which for the record will be _forever._ ”

“Alright, alright, I’ll lay off,” Lance promised, still chortling.

“Hey.” Keith caught him by the arm while the others went back to their alcohol. “That was really awesome. I think you might have broke his brain a little.”

“Right? Can you imagine if he knew what we nearly did on his dresser?” Lance spoke low enough that only the man next to him could hear.

Adrenaline hit Keith’s veins. If that was the first place Lance’s mind went… Oh, it was on. It was on like- what was that thing Lance used to say? 

Donkey Kong.

 

The group managed to put an impressive dent in the vodka even without Shiro and Lance’s help. Pidge snickered because Lance kept filling Rax’s drink when he wasn’t looking in the hopes it would help him loosen up and stop being such a killjoy. And it was working better than than any of them had anticipated.

“Okay, but how does it work with two guys?” Rax slurred, _stinkin’_ drunk. “Do you like…” He rubbed his pointer fingers together like he was trying to start a fire.

“Sometimes. That’s certainly one way to do it.” Lance folded his arms with amusement and fought to keep a straight face. Teasing Hunk’s stick-in-the-mud, soon-to-be brother-in-law was his new favorite thing, and boy, had they found a topic where Rax put his foot in his mouth.

“But- But how-” Rax looked between his hands, stumped. “How d’you know which one’s the girl?”

Keith sighed his face into his hand, Shiro looked at the ceiling, and Pidge nearly fell out the booth because she was laughing so hard. Rax blinked at her and for the life of him couldn't figure out what was so funny.

“Well, Rax, it’s simple,” Lance went on. “You just compare hand sizes.” Keith, Pidge, and even Shiro’s head snapped to him. “Whoever’s is bigger gets to be the man.” 

“Oh. Oh, okay.” Rax nodded, accepting the explanation.

“So, let’s see shall we?” Lance put his elbow on the table and held his palm up to the other man. Shiro and Keith gaped at how far he was taking it. Pidge, though, was vibrating with excitement next to an extremely anxious Hunk.

Rax was suddenly very unsure, but at Pidge’s prompting, he pressed his hand against Lance’s.

“Oh, look at that…” Lance bent the last hinge of his knuckles over Rax’s stumpy fingers. “I guess you’d be the woman.”

A gurgling noise came from the ornery man’s throat. “M-My hands are wider!” He protested.

“Yeah, that doesn’t count.” Lance tilted his head with a sympathetic grimace.

Rax had the fear of god in his eyes. “Wh-What if I get a girlfriend and her hands are bigger than mine?” 

“Oh ho ho…” Lance made a bridge with his hands and rested his chin on it. “Rax, let me tell you about a little thing called peg-”

“Okay, Lance. That’s enough.” Hunk stopped him before he could scandalize members of his future family any further. “Come on, Rax. Let’s take a walk.”

The four remaining members of the booth waited with pursed lips, and the moment they were gone the space devolved into raucous laughter.

“ _Oh no!_ ” Pidge held her hands over her nose and mouth. “Oh, that was so bad!”

“Hand sizes? Really?” Keith snorted mid-laugh.

“What’s more impressive is that he _believed_ it!” Shiro marveled.

“Oh my god, what is wrong with straight people?” Keith’s sides hurt from laughing. “Lance, he’s really gonna think that now!”

“Eh, I’ll tell him the truth when he gets older,” Lance joked.

Keith gazed at the man next to him, thoroughly impressed. Lance always did have wit to spare.

Things were much more amicable after that. Lance even warmed up to Shiro enough that Keith wasn’t too worried about leaving them in the booth together with only Hunk as a buffer. Lance was preoccupied with his phone anyways. Following a quick spin on the dance floor with Pidge, Keith toppled back into the booth and practically landed on top of Lance, pretending to be way drunker than he was.

“Hey, show me your hand,” he giggled holding up his palm. Rolling with the joke, Lance smacked his palm into it slightly askew. Keith interlaced his fingers with Lance’s while they enjoyed another laugh at Rax’s expense. 

One of Pidge’s eyebrows rose. “Hey, Hunk, maybe we should go check on Rax. Make sure he’s not comparing hands with some poor, unsuspecting stranger.”

“He just went to the bathroom, I’m sure he’s- oof.” She elbowed him in the side. “Okay, we’re going.” 

They made their exit, and realizing he was alone with just the former couple, Shiro quickly made himself scarce too.

“This is a great venue, Lance. Good job!” Keith gave him a friendly knock with his shoulder.

“Yeah? You having fun?” Lance seemed surprised at how good-natured he was being.

“Yeah, actually I am!” Keith cracked a genuine smile and parlayed the sentiment into stretching his arms overhead. He leaned into the back of the booth, arching his back and exposing a few inches of midriff. He made sure Lance’s eyes caught it and watched his Adam’s apple bob before dropping his limbs again. 

“It’s nice that we can just hang out again, ya know?” Keith’s fingers played with his mullet while he cast a very sultry look at the man next to him. 

“Ah- Y-Yeah, that is pretty nice.” Lance averted his eyes and tried to take a drink from his already empty water cup, a move that had Keith smirking to himself. It was working. 

“I’m gonna go to the bar. Can I get you anything?” He offered, lightly touching Lance’s knee.

“Maybe in a bit.” Lance declined but Keith made sure he got a good view of his ass while he leaned across the table to fish his wallet out of the jacket that he’d conveniently left on the opposite side.

“You’re not drinking. That’s not like you.” Returning to his seat, Keith tucked a knee under himself and propped up his head on the back of the bench to consider the man next to him.

“There’s something I have to do first.”

“Yeah? What do you have to do?” Keith flirted shamelessly.

“Just, _something_.” Lance kept it vague but an inkling of a smile played on his lips. 

Perhaps it was just wishful thinking on Keith’s part, but it was possible that maybe, just maybe, Lance was flirting back. 

“So you gonna get that drink?”

“What?” Keith put his hand to his ear and pretended he couldn’t hear over the dull-thud of the music.

“I said…” Lance shifted closer and put his mouth right next to his ear, just as Keith hoped he would. “Are you going to get that drink?” 

Goosebumps spawned down Keith’s arm at the slow and clear enunciation that tickled his ear.

“Yeah, I am.” He put a hand in the middle of Lance’s chest to move him aside, then straddled his way over him - with eye contact - to get out of the booth. He shot a smile over his shoulder to make sure Lance was watching while he walked away.

 

On his own, Lance quickly checked his phone then scanned the club. He wanted this guy to hurry up and show already so he could start drinking and properly enjoy his night. Also, something was up with Keith. He was laying it on pretty thick. Strangely though and perhaps against his better judgement, Lance wasn't mad at it. It was kind of nice to see Keith work so hard for it.

 

Keith returned shortly thereafter carrying two drinks - a dark and stormy in one hand and a bright pink, fruity-looking concoction in a tall, hurricane glass in the other. It was piled high with whipped cream, a wedge of pineapple, and garnished with two cherries on top.

“What the hell is that? Since when do you drink sweet things?” Lance laughed. “Wait, for me?” He asked when Keith held it out to him. 

Keith nodded with a coy smile.

“I told you I’m not drinking tonight.” He sounded a little annoyed.

The man carrying the drinks leaned in close. “That’s why I ordered it virgin. It’s basically a fruit smoothie.” He offered the drink again and it was tentatively accepted. 

“Did they put coconut in it because-”

“No coconut. Extra bananas. I know how you like it.” Keith said over his glass and then touched amber liquid to his lips. His dark eyes flashed up at Lance after. “Wait!” He said before Lance took a sip and snatched one of the cherries off the top of the drink. “Okay go.” He popped the red sphere in his mouth and rolled it between his lips. “How is it?” He asked around the cherry.

“Good!” Lance’s eyes lit up after trying it. “Really good! Wanna try?”

Keith leaned over to put his mouth on the blue straw and accidentally-on-purpose landed a hand on a thigh on the way. “Mmm. That is sweet.” He touched his lips while they pursed and looked at Lance again. “Hey, you got a little...” He wiped some whipped cream off the corner of Lance’s mouth.

Brown eyebrows raised and Keith was worried he was being too obvious. But Lance’s eyes were wide and vibrant, and most importantly, locked on him.

Keith sat back, pulling a knee to his chest and trying to think of his next move. He jumped when something touched his shoulder and almost slid off his seat when he realized it was Lance’s fingers. By all appearances, Lance was busy enjoying his fruit smoothie, but his arm was very slyly draped along the back of the booth and around its other occupant. His fingers delicately brushed along an upper arm.

Keith’s pulse rose to his ears. Obvious or not, Lance was picking up what he was putting down. Keith took another gulp out of his glass and tried not to lose his cool. Suddenly the stakes felt so much higher.

 

Pidge ordered a non-virgin version of the drink she’d seen Keith carrying and found Hunk across the bar.

“Hey, Hunk. Sorry your bachelor party sucks.”

“Eh, it could be worse.” He shrugged it off. “Wait, why did you buy a drink when we’ve still got tons of vodka?” 

“One, have you seen this thing?” She pointed at her drink that was nearly toppling over with whipped cream. “And two…” She flipped her finger to their VIP booth and its two cozy inhabitants. Hunk’s eyes widened with understanding. 

“Wow, what’s goin’ on there?”

“No idea.” Pidge replied. “But I’m not about to interrupt it.” She slurped loudly through her straw.

“God, it would add ten years back to my life if they would just work it out before my wedding,” Hunk lamented. Pidge grunted in agreement.

“You guys watching them too?” Shiro sheepishly joined them.

“Oh, hi Shiro. Yeah, we’re taking bets on how it pans out.” Pidge continued to peer at the pair across the club who were looking awfully coupley. “Want in? Assuming you’re rooting for them, of course.”

“Pidge, I am rooting for them harder than any of you know,” Shiro assured her. “I’m really glad you’re talking to me again too.”

“Eh.” She shrugged. “You said some nice things in the car. Plus, Matt said I should be nicer to you. For some reason, he’s really on your side in all this.”

“You talked to Matt about this?” Shiro’s tone changed to one of concern.

“I talk to Matt about everything.” Pidge casually drained half her glass. “I’m gonna go text Maria. Twenty bucks says they’ll be making out by the end of the night.”

“I will gladly take that bet and pray that I lose.” Hunk fist bumped Pidge before she scuttled off.

“Wait Pidge, what did you say to Matt?” Shiro chased after her, leaving Hunk alone swirling his glass and watching the two idiots on the other side of the room.

“Come on, guys. Figure it out already.” He raised his glass to them in offering in case the alcohol gods were watching.

 

Keith was sweating in the booth. He wasn’t imagining it - Lance’s fingers were definitely playing along his arm. He had to say something. He had to move them moment along.

“Hey, did you ever-” He turned to Lance at the exact moment Lance turned to him. Both their eyes widened at the unexpected closeness, the sheer proximity they had to each other. 

“Ah- go ahead,” Keith said as Lance did the same. They both chuckled.

“You first.” Lance nudged him.

“Oh, um… I just wanted to tell you that-” They looked at one another again. “I, um…” Lost in Lance’s eyes, Keith couldn't remember what he was going to say. Breath fell slow and suddenly words weren’t needed. The moment just felt right.

Keith leaned in first and Lance followed his lead.

They almost… They were about to…

But Keith pulled away, abandoning any plan he had to vie for Lance’s attention. 

“Hey… What’s wrong?” Lance gently shook him.

“I…” Keith struggled to find the words. He threw his hands up and dropped them into his lap when he couldn’t think of anything but the truth. “I don’t deserve it, Lance. I was a shitty boyfriend. I know that now and I wish more than anything that I could change it, but..” His shoulders turned in and any shred of confidence he’d sported earlier was inverted.

“Shitty boyfriend? What-”

“You deserve so much better. You deserve the world. You really do. And I hope whoever you’re with now…” Keith couldn’t stop his voice from shaking. “I hope he knows that.”

“Keith.” Lance’s arm was firmly around him. “Look at me.”

Reluctantly, Keith lifted his eyes to the man he had failed.

“You were not a shitty boyfriend.” Lance’s blue eyes rang true. “I mean, yeah, things didn’t end well, but aside from that, Keith, you were amazing.” 

“Really?” Keith almost managed to smile.

“Yeah.” An affectionate smile broke across Lance’s face. “You were there for me a lot more than I think you realized.” Keith turned his head, listening. “Like how I’d wake up every morning with your arm around me because you always rolled over and hugged me in your sleep. You did that while you were unconscious, Keith. You can’t fake that.” Lance’s arm squeezed tight around him. “And I’ll never forget how sweet you were after I came out to my family. Or how good you were at talking me down from a panic attack. I really needed you for that.” His voice dampened with sincerity. “And babe, you always _killed it_ on my birthdays. I mean...” Lance’s eyes rolled back in his head for a second while a giant grin plastered across his face.

Keith’s lips twitched. He had to give him that one. He had always made sure Lance felt extra special on his birthday. But how… How could Lance talk about what they’d had without even looking sad?

Unless...

He was over it. Lance was over him.

“I miss it, Lance. I miss you.” Keith sagged with defeat.

And there it was again. The sadness on Lance’s face. Sadness Keith had put there. He regretted having said anything.

“Yeah, well… It hasn’t been easy for me either.” Lance shifted uncomfortably and put his arm back up on the seatback. Keith felt it’s absence. “Just don’t be so hard on yourself, okay? You’ve got a lot to offer.” Encouragement in the form of soft circles met Keith’s back. Reflexively, he tilted his head onto the man next to him. He loved him. He loved him with all his heart.

“Lance, do you- do you wanna dance?” Keith used his last shred of confidence to ask. “I know you’re with someone else and I promise I won’t try anything...” He back pedaled fast when Lance let slip an unsure breath. “I just- I’d like one last dance with you.”

Lance still hesitated.

“Ah- You know what, never mind. Sorry, it was inappropriate to ask.” Keith peeled his head from Lance’s shoulder and retreated down the bench, more than a little embarrassed. 

But next thing he knew, Lance had grabbed him by the hand.

“Come on.” 

 

Across the bar, Pidge was growing increasingly annoyed by the third degree Shiro was giving her over her brother and what she had or hadn’t said to him. Her bored eyes latched onto something much more interesting.

“Shiro… SHIRO!” She started slapping him excitedly. “Shut up. Look…” She pointed at what she was seeing on the dance floor.

“No way. Are they… dancing?” Shiro grinned.

“Looks like.” She beamed back as if they were witnessing a miracle. 

“How the hell did they-” Shiro shook his head proudly. “‘atta boy, Keith. Well in, Lance.” 

“Guys, guys! Are you seeing this?” Hunk hustled over.

“Did they kiss yet? Did I miss it?” Pidge got her wallet ready.

“I don’t think so. Just wait-” Hunk put his hand up.

“What are you all looking at?” Rax came along with Hunk and tried to follow their eyes.

“Quiet, Rax. You wouldn't understand,” Pidge snapped.

The three friends continued to watch. Pidge, subtly and out the side of her eye while pretending to text. Hunk and Shiro, meanwhile, gawked openly.

Pidge punched Shiro in the shoulder, hard.

“Ow! What the-”

“You wanna ruin this for him too? Be more obvious why don’t you! You too, Hunk.” She glared.

The two men shifted to stand more casually and pretended to be in conversation while they continued to watch more discreetly.

 

His friends could have been five feet away with binoculars and Keith wouldn’t have noticed. Arms carefully placed over Lance’s shoulders and with Lance’s tentative hands touching down on his hips, he was in his own world. A world that was just him and Lance. True to his word though, Keith didn’t try anything. They just danced, swaying to the music cheek-to-cheek. Lance’s slow breaths fell warm against the side of his jaw and melting with the moment, Keith’s head slid into the familiar space between a neck and a collar bone. Pulling him closer, he wrapped his arms around his former boyfriend and held on tight, wishing the song would never end. 

Bodies pressed together, Lance’s hands started to move, traveling up his spine. Higher, higher until- Keith sucked in a breath and held it. Lance was going for it. He was going to- A sound came out of Keith’s mouth that he prayed was drowned out by the club music when Lance’s fingers made it into his hair. Lance pulled at his mullet and scratched at the base of his skull in all the right ways and Keith could barely stay on his feet. It was cruel. How could Lance touch him like that and not come back to him? How could he not?

Keith went limp in the other man’s arms because he knew why.

“Shit… Keith, are you crying?” Lance tried to pull his face up.

“No...” Keith forcefully avoided eye contact then brought his wet eyes to Lance.

“Babe…” The look in Lance's eyes shifted to something familiar. Fingers brushed his cheek and every muscle in Keith’s face strained to keep it together. No crying in the club, Keith, he told himself, even if Lance had just called him babe for the _second_ time that night. Keith knocked their foreheads together before he did something stupid, like go back on his word.

“I still love you, you know? I never stopped,” Keith whispered against his best intentions. He didn't think Lance had heard him but the arms pulling him closer said otherwise. Their noses brushed and Keith shut his eyes, relinquishing himself to the moment and leaving the decision to Lance for what might happen next. He waited but Lance’s hands had stopped moving. His feet had too.

“...Lance?” Keith blinked his eyes open.

Lance was distracted, his eyes fixed on something across the room.

“Shit. I gotta go take care of something.” He touched either side of Keith’s arms, moving him to the side. “When I get back, maybe we can talk about that drink.” A lingering was kiss on Keith's cheek that electrified his limbs down to his fingers and toes. With that, Keith was left alone wiping his eyes and wondering what the hell had just happened.

His watery vision chased after the man who held his heart. Keith wound his way across the dance floor to see what he was doing. Between the heads of a dancing couple, he watched Lance start talking to a lanky, sallow-skinned man in a hoodie who looked very out of place at the upscale bar. Was that him? The guy Lance was seeing? Keith’s hackles rose. But their exchange was too short, too _official_ for two people involved.

The hooded figure left not long after and Lance delayed, ordering a drink.

Keith talked himself up to it then approached. 

“Who was that?” He dragged a friendly hand down Lance’s back when he arrived at the bar. 

“Not now, Keith.” Lance jumped at the touch. 

Keith’s hand immediately pulled away. Lance’s demeanor had gone cold. 

“Look, you’ve been all over me all night. Give it a rest.”

“Sorry, didn’t know you minded.” Keith threw some shade.

“I told you I’m seeing someone.”

“Well it’s not serious yet, right? And I don’t see him here.”

“Because it’s Hunk’s bachelor party, Keith! It didn’t seem appropriate to invite him!”

Keith made an unimpressed face and muttered something about that sounding pretty unsupportive.

“Unsupportive? How do you think we even got a table in this place?”

Keith tch’ed. “Fine, I’ll leave you alone then! Plenty of other guys here I can get a drink with.”

“Great. Good luck with that. You’re a real class act, Keith.” Lance picked up his glass and left.

Keith stared into the wood of the bar, feeling rather small and like an asshole for resorting to such cheap tactics. He didn’t want to but knew he probably ought to apologize for that. He looked over his shoulder to where Lance had gone and dragged himself away from the bar, prepared to eat crow.

 

Trailing about twenty feet behind him, Keith followed Lance into the bathroom in the VIP area and saw him talking to somebody in the far corner. He quickly ducked into a stall before they noticed he was there and kept watching through the crack.

“You got the five-E?” A raspy voice inquired. It was the guy Lance had been talking to at the bar.

“Quintessence. Right here.” Lance pulled a small bag out of his jacket and held it close to his body. The other man dipped a finger into the bag then rubbed it along his gums.

“Damn! That’s the good shit!”

“Yeah, you get what you pay for.”

Keith’s eyes widened. It wasn’t possible. Lance couldn’t be-

Something was happening that was obscured from his view, but it sounded like they were negotiating a price. Coming to some sort of agreement, the shady man eyed the still bathroom then quickly snatched the bag, tucking it into his coat in a flash.

Clearing his throat, Lance stuck his hand out just to the side of his pocket, and kept his eye on the door while a stack of cash was placed there. It was quickly counted then put out of sight.

 _Lance, no!_ Keith mouthed. What the hell was he doing?

“Pleasure doing business. You like that sample, there’s more where it came from,” Lance spoke but Keith barely recognized him. 

The shady man pulled a hood over his head then hurriedly left the bathroom. 

Lance counted the money one more time then washed his hands at the sink. He stared at his reflection in the mirror a long moment before drying his hands. Keith had nearly forgotten how to breathe after what he had just witnessed. He waited for Lance to come down the line of stalls then burst out of the one he was hiding in, intercepting his path.

Lance yelped and jumped back several feet.

“Jesus, Keith, are you a full-on stalker now?” He clutched his chest having just been given the fright of his life.

Keith glared at him, mad as hell.

“I saw you, Lance. What the hell are you doing?” He shook his head, still not wanting to believe it was true. 

“I’m not doing anything. Mind your own business.” Lance pushed past him.

“Really? Because it looks like you just sold drugs in a club bathroom.” Keith got in his way again. “It all makes sense now. That’s how you paid for your car and those clothes you’ve been wearing.”

“Uh, wrong and wronger.” Lance tilted his head spitefully. “And relax, would you? I'm just helping a friend.”

“A _friend?_ ” Keith narrowed his eyes. “It's that guy you're seeing, isn’t it?” Keith earned himself an affirmative eye roll. “Lance, he's no good for you!”

“And you were?” Lance bit back.

Keith grit his teeth. “Yeah, actually I was!”

“Oh yeah, Keith. Yeah. You were so _good_ for me!” Lance mocked. “You were such an _amazing_ boyfriend. Amazing boyfriends don’t cheat!”

Keith was caught off-guard by the complete reversal. “Then why the hell did you say-”

“I don’t know, okay?” Lance’s arms flailed out. “Probably to make you feel better. Because you were looking at me with those damn, sad puppy eyes.” He flicked his wrist at Keith’s face, shooing them away. “I said it because I felt bad. You make me feel _bad_ , Keith!”

“At least you weren’t selling drugs when you were with me!” Keith’s blood started to run hot.

Lance huffed with disdain and looked at him like he wasn’t even worth his time.

“Fuck off, Keith. You don’t know anything.” He tried to go around him again.

“No.” Keith slipped an arm under one of Lance’s, locking them together. “I’m not letting you go back to him.”

“What the hell, get off me!” Lance struggled and surprisingly, he was a lot stronger than Keith remembered. He jostled enough to pull out a flip phone and dial a number on speed dial.

“Yeah, we got a situation.”

“Oh, is it me? Am I the situation?” Keith tried to slap the phone out of his hand.

“You might be!” Lance snapped to the side of the mouth piece.

“Good! I’ll be the best damn situation you ever had! You are NOT going back to him!” Keith’s swinging palm launched the phone from Lance’s hand and sent it skittering across the tile floor. With an indignant cry and vicious shove, Lance managed to knock Keith off balance and tear free of his grasp.

“Lance... Lance, no!” Stumbling, Keith threw his arms around the exiting man's middle and falling to his knees, dragged Lance to the ground with him. They scuffled, but it was Keith who ended up on top. He managed to pin Lance to the floor. Lance struggled but the man on top was stronger.

“Been working out, I see. At _someone’s_ gym?” Resentful eyes flashed.

“Actually, I’ve been working out on my _own._ ” Keith pushed Lance’s hands back to the floor and held them there fast. “No! You are not moving! I will sit on you all night if I have to!” 

“Sit on my dick, Keith! Oh, I'm sorry... Pretty sure you'd rather sit on Shiro's!”

Keith slammed Lance's wrists back to the floor with a ferocious growl. His snarling breath mixed with Lance’s. 

“I don’t want Shiro. I want YOU, you dumbfuck! Did you not hear what I said out there? I said I still-”

“NO! I don’t wanna hear it!” Lance tried to drown him out.

“Ugh, Lance!” Keith growled with frustration. “I wish you would just listen for a-”

“Fuck what you wish! You know what I wish, Keith? I wish I’d never even kissed you in the first place!” Lance cut to the quick.

“Shut up! You don’t mean that!” Keith took damage.

“Don’t tell me what I mean!” Lance snapped.

“I know you, Lance! I know you still care!”

“Yeah, well, I WISH I DIDN’T!” Lance cried at the top of his lungs. “You’re in my head Keith and I wish you’d just GET OUT! Now, let. Me. GO!”

“Lance, ugh… If you would just talk to me for five minutes, I know we can fix this!”

“NO! I don’t WANT to talk!” Lance’s legs flailed helplessly. “You broke me, Keith! You shattered my heart into a million pieces and now I don’t know how to put it back together again!”

“I KNOW!” Keith roared, losing his last shred of patience. “I know, okay! I fucked up and I’m SORRY!” His voice finally cracked. “But come on, Lance, this isn’t you…” He pleaded, melting onto Lance’s torso. “Baby, please… Don’t do something you’re gonna regret.”

Air hissed between Lance’s teeth as he tried to writhe out from under him.

“Don’t do this, Lance. Please… Please, don’t do this. Don’t do this...” 

Keith kept whispering until finally Lance stopped struggling. The body beneath him went limp and thinking he’d come to his senses, Keith let up on his wrists. Everything was still for long enough that Keith sat back with relief. But with a snarling cry and a fierce, full-body heave, Lance knocked the other man off of him. His elbow happened to clip Keith’s jaw while he scrambled to his feet, momentarily stunning him.

“Lance, no!” Seeing stars, Keith blindly tried to grab his ankle but it slipped through his grasp.

“Lance!” Keith stumbled out of the bathroom holding his stinging lip.

 

Lance made sure to get lost in the crowd. He called Lotor while he darted his way to the door.

“Hey. Yeah, it’s done. Can you come and get me?” His voice shook. A mess of panic and anxious energy, he was not enjoying the intersection of his two worlds at all. “Out front? The McLaren? Okay. Quickly, please.”

He stopped by the table on the way, drained Rax’s drink, then apologized to Hunk, explaining that he was going to have to bail early. He ran off without further explanation.

Keith showed up at the table seconds later.

“Where is he?” He barked at its two inhabitants.

“Uh…" Rax pointed in the direction Lance had gone and Keith took off.

“Was he bleeding?” Hunk asked his brother-in-law before they both scrambled out of their seats after him.

 

Lance made it outside first and was busy catching his unsteady breath and fretting over how long Lotor was taking when Shiro popped out of the club looking concerned.

“Lance, are you okay? What's going on?” 

“I saw him. He was selling something in there. Five… Five-something!” Keith was on his heels.

“Five-E?” Shiro’s eyes widened at Lance.

“Wow, way to be a narc, Keith,” Lance seethed.

“Okay, Lance, let’s just talk about this-”

“Shut UP, Shiro! Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!” Lance exploded flinging his arms at his sides. “You don't get to be the adult here!”

“You don’t know what you’re getting into with that stuff. It’s trafficked by Galra,” Shiro calmly continued and waved off the concerned-looking club security near the door. “You’re going to fall in so deep that you can’t get out again.”

“Well if I do, it's your fucking fault, isn’t it? Ever think of that? All of this-” Lance cast his arms out at the chaos around him. “All of it is your fault! Because it was YOU! You’re the one that drove us apart.” 

Keith was watching from behind Shiro, too stunned to know what to do or to notice the blood trickling from his mouth.

Pidge tumbled out of the club behind Hunk and Rax and took one look at Keith’s bloody lip.

“Whoa, Lance, did you hit him?” She looked at Lance in a way she never had before.

“No, he didn’t.” Keith quickly wiped his chin. “Not intentionally, anyway.” 

“Lance, buddy, you doin’ okay?” Hunk carefully approached him. Lance’s shoulders heaved with anxious breaths while his eyes darted amongst his four friend’s faces.

“Yeah, man, I’m _fine._ ” He put on a brave face. “Keith doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” 

Keith stepped forward and gently took Lance by the wrists. “Baby, we’re here for you. _I’m_ here for you. You don’t have to do this. Whatever trouble you’re in, we can help. We have each others backs, remember?”

“Keith…” Lance snatched his wrists back and stepped closer, putting their faces just inches apart. “Get the _fuck_ away from me.”

A black convertible skidded to a stop at the curb not a moment later. A man in sunglasses and silver hair at the wheel wafted his gaze over the group of friends, lingering on the mulleted man in red in particular. He smirked, ascertaining that he was no threat.

Shiro stiffened with recognition. “Lance, do not get in that car. Do not- LANCE!”

Ignoring all warnings, the defiant man promptly hopped over the passenger side of the car and sloppily made out with the man in the front seat.

Keith started to go after him but Shiro held him back with such unnerving force that it actually made him think twice.

The engine revved and Lance held up two middle fingers over the back seat.

“Eat shit, Shiro!” He cried as the car peeled out. It swerved around slower traffic, ran a red light at the next intersection, and was gone.

“What the hell, Pidge?” Hunk turned to his friend, disappointed.

“Me? What did I do?”

“He’s been staying with you, you were supposed to be keeping an eye on him!” Hunk scolded.

“He’s not staying with me. I thought he was staying with you!” She shot back.

“Uh… He hasn’t been at my place since the turn of the year.”

“Then where the hell has he been staying?”

Four pairs of eyes looked down the street where the car had sped off.

“This is much worse than I thought…” Shiro ran a distressed hand through his hair.

“Who- Who the hell was that guy?” Keith continued to stare down the road. The guy Lance took off with was vaguely familiar but Keith couldn’t place him. He looked to Shiro’s pale face and saw recognition there. “Shiro?”

Shiro's eyes pained. “I honestly don't know if I should tell you.”

 

\----

 

“Hah! That was amazing! What timing!” Lance yelled over the roar of the engine and the air whipping over the windshield. “Fuck you, Shiro! Suck it, Keith! You guys can have each other!” He hollered out the back of the car even though they were long out of sight.

Lotor pulled him back into his seat before he fell out the back of the convertible. They skidded to a stop on a secluded section of road. A small, metallic tray was taken out of the glove box and a white powdery substance from one of Lotor's pockets deposited onto it.

“Wait, I thought you didn’t do that stuff outside of missions.” Lance grew concerned as it was cut into two thin lines with a credit card.

“The mission isn’t over until we’re home safe and sound. Why not have a little fun on the way?” Lotor popped a short, metal straw off the side of the tray and leaned over it. The faint hiss of air pulling through the straw could be heard.

Lance’s mind was spinning too much to pay it much mind. His limbs were wobbly with residual adrenaline, and anger at Shiro and Keith still overpowered his rational thought, but a sense of guilt for bailing on his best friend's bachelor party lurked somewhere behind that pulsing anger. He grit his teeth, knowing he was going to have to deal with it later. Another wave of barely containable emotion hit him, and he didn’t want to think anymore. He didn’t want to feel. Lance’s eye landed on the metal tray.

“Alright, lemme try this shit.” He reached for the straw. 

Lotor promptly stopped him.

“Ah-ah-ah. You're not ready for that much yet. Here...” He brushed a small amount of the remaining line onto the tip of his pinkie and wrapped his arm around Lance, bringing the finger just beneath his nostril. “Breathe in, fast. No guts, no glory.” 

Lance cast an unsure eye at the man next to him then did as he was told. Dusty, white powder that burned like fire flew into his nostril.

“Ah- Fuck!” He yelled clutching his nose. Lotor quickly kissed him through the sting in his sinuses. “Jesus...” Lance touched his nose again after. It felt… weird, almost like it was going numb.

“Give it a few minutes. It’ll start to feel good.” Lotor kissed his cheek then finished the rest of the second line.

The numbing sensation slowly crept down the back of his throat. Wide-eyed, Lance touched parts of his less and less feelable face, fighting the part of himself that was panicking for what he’d just done.

 

Fifteen minutes later though, Lance was singing a different tune. Hanging out the side of an accelerating McLaren with his arms in the air while it whipped around tight turns and winding mountain roads, the wind in his hair and his heart racing in his chest, Lance had never felt more alive.

“WOOOO! YEAH! THIS IS AMAZING!” Lotor grabbed the back of his shirt before he tumbled out the side of the vehicle. “I’M LIVING MY BEST LIFE!”

“Really, Lance? Memes in my McLaren?” He chided but was amused.

“That's just how I roll, baby!” Lance plopped his keister back into his seat, put on Lotor’s sunglasses, and threw his arms back like he was on a roller coaster.

Lotor chuckled and hit the gas on the straight-away, giving Lance extra reason to scream.

“I can roll that way too, you know.” Lotor smirked like he had a secret.

“Can you now?” Lance tilted his head with challenge.

Lotor’s eyebrow twitched dangerously. He sent Lance a look that said ‘watch this’ then leaned over the driver’s side. 

“YOLO MOTHER FUCKERS!” He yelled in a perfect American accent.

Lance gaped with amazement then slapped his knee amist cackles. “Where the fuck did that come from?!”

“Where did what come from?” The man smiled innocently, solidly back in his British. “You saw nothing and no one will believe you if you tell them otherwise.” 

Grinning from ear to ear, Lance’s head lolled against the headrest. His eyes wafted dreamily over the man across from him. There was something about the way his hair danced in the wind.

“Hey, Lotor!” He shouted over the air pulsing over the windshield. “Wanna come to a wedding with me?”

“Your friend's wedding?” Lotor shouted back.

“Yeah!” 

“Really?” A smile curved on pale lips and could not be contained. “I wasn’t sure you wanted me there.”

“Oh, I want you there! I want you everywhere.” Lance crawled across the seat so he could put his mouth next to Lotor’s ear. “I want you right now.”

The car swerved dangerously close to the edge of the road and the sharp fall-away on the side of it. Sprawled across the center console, Lance’s head was in Lotor's lap, his mouth fully occupied. Eyes wide with shock and with deepening breaths, Lotor’s fingers wound tightly around the wheel. The struggle to maintain his compose as well as keep his eyes on the road was one he was rapidly losing. With a grunt flanked by increasingly ragged breath, he stepped on the gas, eager to get to their destination before he lost control.

The McLaren screeched to an unsteady stop on a dark hilltop that overlooked the city. The man behind the wheel whipped back against the seat, thrust a hand into brown hair, and finished in Lance’s mouth the moment they were safely parked. He slumped in the driver’s seat after, unsure how either of them were still alive.

“I seriously can’t feel the back of my throat at all!” Lance marveled as he popped back up. “It’s like I have no gag reflex!”

“You never had one anyway,” a heaving, rather disheveled Lotor pointed out. He continued to gape at his Garrison boy like he was absolutely insane. Dazzled by this new-found recklessness, Lotor caught him by the back of the head and firmly press their mouths together for as long as he could before having to break for air. “You are _trouble,_ ” he chuckled dangerously beneath hooded lids then hungrily kissed him again. “And I love it!”

Lance smirked proudly as he landed back in his seat then got lost in the city lights before them. Somewhere Keith and his friends were down there, probably worrying about him. Lance couldn't get it out of his head. Keith had said he still loved him.

“Lance, have you ever fucked on top of a million dollars?” 

“No, but I threw my entire future off a cliff once.”

“What?”

“Huh?” Lance snapped out of it and turned to see Lotor waiting for him, stiffening flesh in hand. “Oh, you mean the car...” With a cheeky grin, Lance shimmied out of his pants and climbed into the man’s lap. Another bump of cocaine was fed to him off a fingertip. He pressed his face into silver hair as it burned anew and let the man’s hands guide him into position.

Lance gripped the seatback and hissed in the moonlight as he slid down on Lotor’s waiting cock just as the second high was hitting him. 

“Oh my god, yes…”

Pupils tight and constricted, the man’s nails scraping down his arched back, and with a racing heart threatening to beat out of his chest, the Garrison boy’s blue eyes turned upward, and Lance swore he could see every star in the sky.

 

\----

 

Shiro had taken Keith to a nearby Denny’s but refused to tell him anything until he’d sobered up and the adrenaline had worn off. Keith choked his way through half a cup of thick sludge that was a pathetic excuse for coffee, and when Shiro was finally ready to divulge what he knew, Keith listened with a horrified expression to the explanation of who the man in the car had been. 

“The son of a Galra gang leader?” The color drained from Keith’s face. “How did Lance even meet someone like that?”

Shiro wouldn’t look at him and Keith knew there was more he wasn’t telling him. 

“Shiro…” He banged his fists on the table.

With reluctance, Shiro continued. “I don’t know how they crossed paths again, but Lance met him a long time ago, well before you guys were even a thing.”

Keith stuck his face out with disbelief.

“You remember when I had to go pick up Lance from somewhere, after he called your phone in the middle of the night? Back when you were still cadets?”

“Yeah…”

“Well...” Shiro's eyes moved to where ceiling met wall, and he waited for Keith to figure it out.

“No. NO!” Keith slammed his palms on the table and nearly leapt across it. “That guy? _That_ was his secret not-a-girlfriend? His crazy stalker ex that he’s completely terrified of? The one with the texts and the… the... ” His mind conjured up images of the dick pic he’d found on Lance’s phone by accident. “Oh, god…” He sank rather unstably back into his seat. Lance had said it wasn’t the whole story but never in a million years had he thought it would involve the Galra.

“Stalker ex? What do you mean?” Shiro leaned closer.

“Senior year at the Garrison, Lance used to sneak off to see some secret ‘lady friend’ but it was actually some creepy guy who sent him texts for years after, harassing him and trying to get him to come back. It was really bad, Shiro. He had to change his number and everything.”

“Lotor’s been texting Lance all this time?” Shiro’s frame vibrated with poorly contained fury.

“He was, but not for a while… Lance never said anything… I thought he was gone.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill him. Jesus, that poor kid.” Shiro put his face in his hand. “I had no idea, Keith. I had no idea it was this bad.”

“I didn’t either.” Keith quietly curled his hands around his porcelain cup and stared into the murky, mildly burned liquid in it. “He- He never told me he was Galra…”

“I can understand why he might leave that part out,” Shiro sighed kindly. “And in his defense, Lance didn't know he was Galra when he first met him, but he sure as hell knows now. And Keith…” Shiro made sure to catch his eye. “If Lance is running around with five-E in his pocket, then there’s a very real chance that he is working for that gang.”

“The Galra?? He wouldn't… HE WOULDN’T!” Keith insisted. Lance wouldn’t join a gang. The very notion was ridiculous! It was the last thing he’d do.

Shiro touched his hand to settle him. 

“Lance isn’t himself right now. He’s taking this breakup a lot harder than any of us thought.”

Keith’s shoulders slowly sank. There was a time when he thought he might take vindictive pleasure in knowing that Lance was clearly hurting as badly as he was, but in actuality, he was worried sick. Keith had felt Lance’s frame tremble at the mere thought of that man, had witnessed how a single text from him had sent him spiraling into an anxiety attack. For Lance to go back to someone that terrified him so, that had left such scars on him... 

“Oh Shiro… I really hurt him.” Keith slumped in his seat wanting nothing more than to disappear. “This is all my fault.”

“Keith…” Shiro took the stricken man’s hand. “I am very much to blame in this too. But at the end of the day, Lance has to make his own decisions. We all do. And that’s not on you.” He gave Keith’s hand one more squeeze before exchanging it for his coffee.

Keith was quiet for some time. Logically, he knew Shiro was right, but it didn’t mean he felt any less guilty about it. He took a pensive sip of lukewarm coffee. His cup crashed firmly back to the table, sloshing a few splotches of dark liquid onto a nearby napkin.

“So what are we going to do? How are we gonna get him out?” Keith sat up straighter, ready to form a plan. Strangely though, Shiro didn’t seem to share in his fervor. Keith cocked his head at the hesitation across the table.

“Nothing, Keith. We aren’t going to do anything.”

“What?! Shiro, you can’t be-”

“I am _not_ about to mess with the Galra and neither are you. That is an order!” Shiro’s stern voice raised. 

Keith’s mouth flapped then emitted an indignant huff. “You don’t work for the Garrison anymore. You can’t tell me what to do!”

“You don’t know what they’re capable of, Keith.” Shiro subconsciously held his metal arm. “Promise me you won’t go sticking your nose in their business. Promise me!” 

“Okay. Okay, I promise!” There was a fear in Shiro’s eyes Keith hadn't seen in a long time and it scared him. It scared him to see Shiro so afraid.

“Shiro…” Keith pushed his coffee aside so he could put his elbows on the table. “You never told me how you got captured by the Galra.”

“Well, it’s supposed to be classified…”

Keith tilted his head, knowing that if he just pushed a little harder...

“Alright, since we’re on the topic...” Shiro sighed, giving in. “Keep this to yourself, but it suffices to say that Lance wasn’t the first kid to ever wander into Empire G or places like it. I can’t say I was there for the same reasons he was, but… I made my own mistakes. I know it was bad for Lance, but...” He lifted his pained eyes to the man across the table. “Keith, it could have been so much worse.”

Keith’s eyes drifted to Shiro’s metal arm and the scar that graced his face. There was a lump in his throat for what he wanted to ask next.

“Your arm… Was it- Was it the same guy? The guy Lance is-”

“No. No, it wasn’t.” Shiro's head turned down. He wet his lips before looking at Keith again. “It was his father.”

Keith sat back. His insides ached like they were being pulled apart by some sadistic medieval torture device. He covered his eyes just as he fell victim to the emotional strain that had finally bent him past his breaking point. In his rickety chair under headache-inducing flickering fluorescent lights and on what was fast becoming the worst night of his life, Keith heaved with angry, silent sobs. 

Shiro tried to come to him but Keith put up a hand for him to not. It was too much to process in one night... The Galra had hurt the two people he cared about most, and now Lance might be one of them? He’d gone back to his ex, to that- that _monster?_ A monster who was the very son of the equally horrific savage that had tortured Shiro? What bizarro hellscape of a reality had he woken up in? 

Shiro’s brow furrowed, watching him struggle. “Come on, let me take you home.”

 

Keith’s legs staggered robotically while he was walked to his door. Shiro helped him with his keys when he couldn’t find the right one. His hands just weren’t working properly.

“You gonna be okay?” Shiro asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore…” They’d agreed to try to talk to Lance at the next wedding meeting but Keith was worried about what might happen before then. The hand holding his key fell limp at his side, and Keith lifted his damp, swollen eyes to the other man. He wanted Shiro’s arms around him - in a purely platonic, supportive sort of way, like how Shiro used to do it back at the Garrison. He wanted a damn hug, but it didn’t seem appropriate to ask.

Luckily, Shiro could read him like a book. Clearing his throat, he held his arms open and with the prompting of an ‘alright, come here’, Keith latched onto him in a heartbeat.

Shiro’s arms settled delicately onto his back and neither of them moved a muscle from there, too afraid the addition of pressure or the twitch of a finger might be misconstrued. It was the stillest, most stilted hug they’d ever had. Shiro’s arms didn’t even properly come all the way around him, but Keith couldn’t have been more grateful for it. 

Letting his eyes fall shut in a wanted moment of relief, Keith caught a whiff of the other man’s musky scent and had to pry himself free before his mind could go places it shouldn’t. He didn’t trust himself in his emotionally fragile state.

Shiro stepped away too and awkwardly touched the back of his head. “Alright, I should get going. You’re going to be okay, Keith.” 

“It’s not me I’m worried about.”

“He’ll be okay too. Lance is… resilient like that.” But it looked like Shiro only half-believed his own words. “See you at the gym, Coach Keith.”

“Assistant coach.” Keith reminded him with a twitch of his lip that didn’t make it all the way to smile status.

With one more muted smile Shiro stepped off the single concrete step that led to Keith’s door and made his way down the block. Dark eyes trailed after him. Keith loved Lance with all his heart, but there was just something about Shiro he couldn't quite put his finger on…

The fleeting thought was quickly banished to the back of his mind and replaced with worry. His eyes darted to Shiro once more before Keith let himself inside and began toying with what he was going to do about Lance. Regardless of what he’d promised, he wasn’t going to leave Lance to the Galra. But it was late and his mind was too fried to do anything except waffle between unpleasant emotions and chase anxious threads.

Exhausted and emotionally drained, Keith face planted into his bed. He wasn’t expecting to get much sleep that night, but he hoped things would at least be clearer in the morning.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so BIRTHDAY UPDATE was a rough one. ^^;;;;  
> I’ll go ahead and reiterate this fic’s tagline, which is _“The worst breakups are the ones where you don’t fall out of love.”_ And it has to get worse before it can get better. How much worse? Well... Keep reading.
> 
> The road head was a last minute addition. I’m sorry/You’re welcome?
> 
> I was a little hard on Rax this chapter. He’ll redeem himself at some point.
> 
> Lance... Oh, my sweet baby boy... I hope it's clear how conflicted he is and how much he is masking his suffering.
> 
>  
> 
> Next chapter: **Everything is a Hot Mess**


	13. Everything is a Hot Mess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, Lance self-destructed pretty spectacularly. This time, it’s someone else’s turn. And what better place to lay it all on the line and make a scene than a wedding.  
> (Kill Bill voice: It wasn’t a wedding at all. It was a wedding rehearsal.)
> 
> In this chapter:  
> \- Somebody makes a declaration.  
> \- Somebody redefines a friendship.  
> \- Somebody gets kicked out of a wedding.
> 
> Bonus: A perspective I’ve not written from before!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, an update before season 8 drops! (I hope you'll keep reading even though the show will be done ^^;)
> 
> Since some of you are sensitive to Sheith, I'll give you a heads up that they have a NEAR-MISS in this chapter, but the focus of their interactions is on them going forward as friends. So hopefully that will make some of you less nervous as you read?
> 
> There is a thing you can vote in at the end of the closing notes! Don't miss!

  


**Two weeks before the wedding, right after the bachelor party.**

  


The backslide came and it came with a vengeance. 

Keith barely got out of bed for days. 

He didn’t go to work at the tutoring center. He didn’t answer his phone or check his email. He didn’t even take Red out for walks, only opening the front door so she could go out on the apartment complex’s lawn.

Lance was with the Galra in both senses of the word and every time he thought about it, his body shut down to the point that all he could do was lie in bed and stare at the ceiling, going in endless circles through all the things he wished he could do differently, to prevent it all from happening. 

Sleep wasn't happening either. Every time he shut his eyes he saw Lance and that creep all over each other in fancy cars, saw Lance selling drugs in sketchy bathrooms and feared for his safety on both counts. 

But the thing crippling Keith most of all, the thing that ground any momentum he'd amassed to a neck-snapping halt and turned his upswing into a nosedive, was the fact that he had pushed him there. He’d hurt Lance badly enough to trigger those decisions.

There weren’t enough minutes left in his lifetime to make up for that.

Hunk’s wedding was coming up, right at the beginning of March, and Keith had half a mind to skip it entirely. He didn’t want to see Lance again. He couldn’t take the heartbreak.

When he imagined the horrible things that might be happening to him, what the Garla and that _guy_ were making him do… 

Keith turned onto his side to stare at a different wall, as if that might somehow change or put a new perspective on his dismal reality.

 

\-----

 

While Keith was wallowing and fearing for his safety, Lance was carrying out a very dangerous task for the Galra, indeed.

Earbuds in and singing along to every other line, he was jamming out and dancing in place while precariously balancing five cups in a four-cup holder and clutching another one in the other hand. Lance was on his way back from a Starbucks run before a mission planning meeting with the generals. 

He hummed along in the elevator bouncing to the beat and stole a sip from a drink that wasn’t his through a bright green straw. He hoped it was Acxa's. It'd piss her off the most.

Strolling casually into the meeting room, he set the tray of drinks down on the mahogany table. Cova, Lotor’s black cat, padded across it to inspect what he’d brought.

“Alright, we got a triple, venti, half-sweet, non-fat, caramel macchiato…” He held the drink out, which was collected by Ezor.

“An iced green tea latte, no whip...” 

Zethrid leaned back in her seat to grab it. 

“And… Oh, what is this?” Lance’s eyes lit up. “Okay, who's the basic bitch with the venti pumpkin spice latte?” His voice rolled with laughter.

Ezor gasped while Zethrid choked back a snort.

“Acxa? This you?” Lance lifted the 16oz cup from the holder to tease the frigid general. “It’s not even in season.”

“Double espresso, black.” She took her drink from the cardboard tray with dangerous amusement in her eyes, like he’d just damned himself.

“Narti?” Lance asked, beginning to sweat. It only worsened when she reached for the remaining frap with extra whip.

Suddenly, Lance felt a presence looming behind him and jumped when the hand of the basic bitch himself landed on his shoulder.

“I allow myself two guilty pleasures in this world, Lance. One of them is my spiced lattes.”

“Oh?” Lance trembled nervously. “What’s the other?”

Lotor leaned down to whisper _'Garrison Boys'_ in his ear. Lance yelped when his ass was pinched. Lotor took his gigantic latte then slunk to his seat at the head of the table.

“Alright.” He called the room to order, kicking his feet up onto the mahogany. “You have five minutes to caffeinate yourselves then this basic bitch is starting the meeting.” With a dramatic flick of his hair, he put his earbuds in, took a hefty swig of liquid guilty pleasure, and began busily typing into his laptop.

Lance turned back to the rest of the group, going red in the face.

Ezor looked like she was about to burst from stifling her laughter. She hugged him. “Lancey Lance, oh my god...” She heaved for air. “You are the best damn thing that's happened to us in a long time.” 

Even Acxa was fighting not to smile.

“Seriously, I don’t know how you're alive,” Ezor continued. “There was a time that if any of us called him a basic bitch, we'd be…” She drew her finger across her throat like a knife.

“He’s sure chilled out since you got here.” Zethrid guffawed.

“Yes, he certainly is _different_ with you around.” Acxa didn’t sound entirely pleased about it and cast a judgmental look at her leader's uncharacteristic, lackadaisical feet-up posture.

“What? What was that?” Lance sidled up to her with a hand to his ear. “Is she warming up to me?”

“Don’t push it.” She leered him away and knocked back her espresso.

 

The meeting started and all playfulness was abandoned. Following their leader at the head of the table, they all sat upright in their seats, at attention. Even Cova perched on her haunches to the right of Lotor’s laptop, her yellow eyes keeping watch.

The group dynamic was totally different too. All business, no nonsense. They spoke fast and largely in code and acronyms. Lance found himself lost for most of it. It was his first time being in a planning meeting and Lotor had told him not to worry if he couldn’t keep up. Lance decided it was for the better that he didn’t follow the specifics, especially when they got on the subject of what he was pretty sure was body counts. He tuned in again when the conversation relaxed and they started talking about tattoos.

“Oh, they match your chat handles.” Lance finally figured it out. “BattleAcxa has a battle axe on her- Um…” He tried not to point at her chest. “And LezzyEzzy has a totaly hot babe on her side.”

“Damn right, I do!” She wasn’t shy about lifting her shirt to show it off, to Acxa in particular.

Not to be left out, Narti pulled back her hood with a grin. Her head was shaved and her scalp colored by purple ink with a pink, widening-as-it went-back stripe that bisected her skull.

 _It goes all the way down my spine_. She typed to Lance.

“Wait, Zethrid what’s yours?” Lance asked.

“You haven't seen her arm yet?” Ezor cried excitedly while the beefier general stripped off her jacket.

Lance was instantly queasy. The entirety of Zethrid’s right arm was tattooed to look like the skin had been ripped away, leaving strips of sinewy, bloodied muscle.

“It’s why they call me TheMuscle.” She flexed proudly.

Lance shuddered and had to look away.

 _And soon we're going to mark you._ The statement posed via phone screen from a silent entity with a purple skull and dark eyes made Lance uneasy.

“Wait, Lotor doesn’t have a tattoo or a nickname.” He pointed out.

“He’s LSD.” Zethrid explained.

“But that’s just his initials.”

“Well, I have always been partial to Silver.” Lotor suggested almost shyly.

“Gross.” Zethrid vetoed. Narti immediately gave a thumbs down too.

“No way! We hear him call you that in bed!” Ezor pointed at Lance who blushed madly.

“LSD stays. It’s simple, practical, and I don’t know what else we would call him.” Acxa sighed, irritated that they were so off-topic.

“We ought to call him speedbumps,” Lance interjected slyly.

“Speedbumps?” Ezor tilted her head. 

“Why would we call him that?” Zethrid was equally confused.

“Yes, Lance, why would they call me that?” Lotor turned to him placid-faced but a subtle twitch of his mouth _dared_ him to try to talk his way out of that one.

“Uh…” Lance sweated, realizing that the generals didn’t know. “N-No reason.” 

“Can we get back on track, please?” Acxa requested.

Lance put a Starbucks straw between his lips and vowed to keep his mouth shut for the rest of the meeting.

 

The logistics of the mission were settled: Taint the product of a rival dealer, a subsidiary of Zarkon’s Galra faction. Get in, get out, leave no traces. 

Lance couldn’t help but notice that there was something missing from the plan - him. He’d thought that since he’d been included in the planning meeting, maybe he’d be included in the mission too. But that didn’t seem to be the case.

He followed them out of the suite and to the hotel basement where they convened in a dimly lit room he’d never been in before. By the number of monitors and other computer equipment piled around a single desk that served as a monitoring station, it was an old security office, complete with what looked to be an interrogation room on the other side of a glass window. He watched them all don tactical gear and dose up on muted five-E.

“I guess I’ll just stay here…” Lance said as they rolled out the door. None of them even looked at him. “And be dead weight.” He slumped onto the room’s small two-seater when he was alone.

He took out his phone and immediately dismissed a half-dozen notifications. Concern from his friends that he didn’t yet know how to respond to was banished from his digital psyche with the casual swipe of his thumb. He did, however, begin to type an overdue message to Hunk. _‘Hey man, I really need to apologize to you about the other night. Can I call later?’_

“Garrison boy, man the controls. You’re our eyes.” Lotor’s voice echoed out of the security console’s speakers. A dozen monitors lit up in the room with camera feeds of the warehouse they were raiding and live footage from their body cams.

“Whoa…” Lance breathed at the god-like view. Throwing his phone aside, he hopped into the commander’s seat and threw on a pair of headphones. “Roger that, speedbumps. Lancey Lance is here!”

“Lance… Don’t call me that.” He switched to a private channel. “I love it when you call me that.”

 

 

**The weekend before the wedding.**

 

Keith spent the better part of the week deep in the throes of wallowing. Somewhere along the way though, he’d snapped to action. He needed to help Lance; He needed to get him out of there.

And the first thing Keith needed to do that, was information. 

Wanting to understand his adversary, he’d fallen deep into an internet wormhole, consuming any and all information he could find about the white-haired Galra man Lance had taken off with. 

It consumed him. 

Living on coffee and stale cereal because he’d run out of food, he forgot nearly everything else.

_Good guy Galra? Can he be trusted?_

_Galra Heir Turns Over a New Leaf_

_Galra Goes Good, Ushering in New Age of Affordable Medicine_

Depressingly though, that guy had a lot of good publicity. Public consensus seemed to be that he was some sort of savior of the less fortunate. Keith even found a video of some speech he’d given and had to admit, the guy had charisma in spades. That was really the same guy that had terrified the life out of Lance?

It had to be a trick, a cleverly masked farce, and Keith intended to keep digging until he found proof.

There was a knock on the front door. Keith thought he was hearing things and turned back to the article he was reading.

He heard it again. Red, who was sleeping at his feet keeping his toes warm, looked up too with a quiet ‘woof’. Keith checked the date on his computer. It was already Sunday. Had he really been in his room, in his apartment a full week?

A sense of panic started to take hold as he came out of his hyper-focus. He’d missed an entire week at the tutoring center. He hadn’t even bothered to call in sick. He’d ignored a series of concerned and then increasingly rude messages from his manager as well as any communication from his friends. And he _really_ needed to go grocery shopping. He was almost out of kibble for Red.

A third knock and the muffled sound of someone calling his name sent Keith clambering up from his desk to peer through the peephole in his front door.

“Shit! Shit, shit, fuck...” A dozen more curse words tumbled out when he saw Shiro through it. 

He hadn’t been to the gym either. His new coaching gig had completely slipped his mind. 

“I know you’re home, Keith. I can hear you swearing.”

“Just- Just a second!” He yelled and hastily began tidying up the slovenly state he’d been living in. He stuffed the papers and notes he’d amassed about the activities of the Galra over the past decade out of sight and moved a corkboard with post it notes and strings into his bedroom, making sure the door was shut tight so no one would see. He raced back across the living room to his waiting guest.

“Shiro. Hey.” Out of breath, he opened the door no more than four inches and smiled like nothing was wrong.

“Keith.” The man on the porch didn’t smile back. “May I come in.” It was hardly a question.

“Uh… Yeah, okay.” Keith quit with the fake smile and pulled open the door to let him in.

Shiro sat on a folding chair across from the couch and looked at him a long time. Keith didn’t know what to say.

“Well, at least you’re alive. Everyone’s been worried.” Shiro’s hard stare softened but was replaced with disappointment.

“Yeah, sorry I- Wait, has Lance been worried?”

Shiro’s brow creased further.

“You didn’t come to work, Keith.”

A chill passed through him. He knew from other jobs what happened when you just didn’t show up.

“Are you going to fire me?” He couldn’t look at Shiro.

Shiro’s shoulders heaved with a slow sigh.

“No,” he said flatly. “But I’m also not going to pay you for the days you missed.” 

“That’s fair.” Honestly, Keith didn’t think he even deserved that.

“But you can’t do this again, Keith. I know you’re going through hell, but it’s not an excuse to-”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry.” Keith slumped further and still couldn’t bring his eyes to Shiro.

The side of Shiro’s mouth twitched downwards looking at him.

“Keith, I want this to work out for you, but you’re going to have to-” He was interrupted by a loud grumble from Keith’s stomach. “When did you last eat?”

“Uh… Yesterday? I think?”

Shiro got up to look in the fridge but only found a half pint of sour milk.

“I kinda need to go shopping…”

“Get your coat.” Shiro sighed like a tired parent. “The least I can do is make sure you’re fed.”

 

\-----

 

Lance’s brow knitted while he watched the monitors. They were hitting another warehouse, the third one that week. When all was said and done, a significant dent would be put in Zarkon’s supply chain, ensuring them advantage for months to come. It was only his third mission assisting, but something about this time seemed... off. 

Lance flipped rapidly between the camera feeds they’d hacked, inspecting the dark warehouse from all angles and cocked his head unsure if he should even mention it.

“Hey, Lotor?” He opened a private channel.

“Darling? What is it?”

“Nothing. I’m just not seeing any guards or workers or anything.” 

The place was deserted.

“Strange…”

“Right? If I was a drug lord, I’d at least have someone guarding my stock at all times. And there wasn't even a lock on the gate. It's almost like...”

“...they knew we were coming.” Lotor finished for him then flipped back to the main line. “Girls. Hold your positions!”

“What? Why?” Ezor said. “We’re about to go in.”

“Because it’s a trap.”

“What?”

“How?”

“Are you sure?” The first-in-command questioned. 

“Not certain, but I'm not risking it. Abort. Now.” Lotor gave the order. “Rendezvous back at base. You have Lance to thank your skins tonight.” He switched back to private comms. “Excellent catch, my love.”

The callout had Lance swelling with pride. But at the same time, uncertainty twisted in his stomach. How had they known they were coming?

 

\-----

 

Shiro took Keith to the grocery store, where the famished man piled way too much in the cart. He was so engrossed in scarfing down two protein bars while they were in line to check out that Shiro almost managed to sneakily pay for his groceries. Keith shooed him away as soon as he caught on and made sure he got his credit card in the slot first.

Itching for a change of scenery after being locked up in his apartment all week, they went over to Shiro and Allura’s place after, where Shiro offered to cook him a proper dinner.

“You’re gonna... cook?” Keith’s eyes widened with surprise and just a touch of foreboding. It was well-documented that Shiro was not proficient in the kitchen.

“Well, not cook. But I think even I can handle heating up a frozen pizza.” He smirked confidently and pulled a flat, rectangular box out of the freezer.

Keith ate a whole pie himself then reached for a slice of Shiro’s, picking around the bits Shiro had still somehow managed to burn. They cheers-ed with beers and put on a movie - some terrible, buddy-cop comedy, the kind of movie to be laughed at, not with.

Finally coming out of a week-long fretful haze, Keith was grateful for the company, a full belly, and most of all, the change of pace. It was a welcome relief to let go of all that had been weighing on him and just laugh over something stupid, something idiotic. A week ago he’d sworn he was never going to laugh again and even if there was a hollowness to it, it left a flicker of hope where there had previously been none. 

Shiro opened another beer for him as the credits rolled, which Keith happily accepted. After a healthy swig, he considered the fresh bottle in his hand, then the crumbs that remained of his demolished pizza, and the bag of groceries sitting in the fridge... With sinking disappointment he realized he was doing it again. He was letting someone else take care of him. Like a part of his subconscious knew that if he let himself sink to a pathetic enough state, someone would swoop in and come to his rescue. It was embarrassing. He felt like a man child.

“Hey, Shiro, thanks for this, but I think I-” The other man turned to him and Keith promptly choked on his words. Shiro was close. _Really_ close. Had they been sitting like that the whole time? 

He set his gaze forward again, flustered and completely caught off guard. Where was Allura, for that matter? Was she even home? Were he and Shiro... on their own? Keith’s mind backpedaled a million miles a second, trying to figure out how he’d accidentally ended up in a Netflix and chill scenario.

“You can relax, Keith. I’m not going to try anything.” Shiro read him like a book. “Not now, not ever. You’ve made your position very clear.” He clunked his empty bottle down on the coffee table then settled deep into the couch again and began perusing Netflix for something new. Keith watched him from the corner of his eye.

 _Not… ever?_

Something about that was deeply upsetting. And that thought he’d had the other night came back. That there was something about Shiro...

Out of nowhere, Keith leaned over and grabbed his trainer’s square jaw, turning it towards him again.

Shiro froze remote still in-hand and looked at Keith like he didn’t know what was happening.

Keith’s breath slipped between his lips, slow and steady while his hand explored the other man’s face. Tracing along the line of his jaw, up against the grain of stubble to his temple... 

There was something about Shiro, alright... 

His finger continued over a thick but well-kempt eyebrow, and finally across the scar that halved his face almost artistically. Swallowing, Keith moved his hand to Shiro’s collar and said with a tug what he couldn’t say with words.

It didn’t take much more cajoling than that. Promises to ‘not ever’ were thrown aside and Shiro came closer. Keith shifted down underneath him while the other man crawled on top of him.

“Ah-” Keith let slip a heated puff of air as his back hit the cushions and another when Shiro’s mouth connected with his neck.

He held onto Shiro’s biceps, writhing and pinching his eyes shut. Unable to watch, unable to come to terms with what he was doing, unable to admit that he might _like_ it. 

Hot breath tickled his cheek, then his lips, and he cracked his eyes open a slit.

Shiro’s dark eyes begged a question, to which Keith’s brain screamed _‘NO!’_ but his head nodded _‘yes’_.

Shiro’s eyes fell shut and he went for it.

But Keith threw his arms over his face at the last second, clocking Shiro upside the jaw.

“No! No, I can’t do this!” He turned to the side and tumbled out from under Shiro, off the couch and onto the floor.

Shiro face planted into the couch with a defeated groan. “Keith. When are you going to realize that I have feelings in this too? You can’t keep playing with me like this.” He grumbled into the cushions.

Sprawled on the floor, Keith put a sympathetic hand on Shiro’s heaving shoulder.

They stayed like that a long moment, reclaiming their breath, recovering.

“Shiro…” Keith shifted to sit with his arms curled around his knees and looked up at the other man. “We have to learn to be friends again. We were friends, right?”

Shiro uprighted himself and rested his elbows on his knees to face him.

“I’ve been a lot of things to you over the years.” There was a frazzledness about him. “Your RA, your mentor, your coach, your third with Lance... And yeah, you’re friend too.” He added much to Keith’s relief.

“I guess we’ve never really been on equal footing.” Keith acknowledged.

“That does make it complicated.”

“You really think it could work between us?” Keith was doubtful.

“I don’t know. I can’t see the future. No one can. But there’s something here, Keith.” Shiro touched his face and the look that came with it made his heart leap into his throat. “It’d be a travesty to not see where it goes.”

“Yeah, but if I do anything with you...” Keith shrugged him off. “Then it really is over with Lance.”

Shiro’s eyes did a thing, like maybe he thought it should be. Like maybe it already was. It shook Keith to his core but also lit defiant fires in him.

“Sorry, I don’t think I can. It’s friends or nothing.” He scrambled to his feet to retrieve his groceries from the fridge.

Shiro didn’t try to stop him.

“And we’re still going to talk to Lance at the wedding, right?” Keith asked on his way out the door. “Or have you given up on him too?”

“I didn’t say-” Shiro looked at him solemnly from the sofa. “We’ll talk to him, if that’s what you want.”

“He is. I mean, it is. I’ll see you at work.”

With that, Keith let himself out. He stopped to gasp and get a hold of himself on the front porch. His feet were slow to get down the steps, but he forced them to trudge forward, to take him to the bus stop and away from any situations that would destroy what little remaining hope he and Lance had of reconciling.

Shiro watched from the window as he disappeared from sight.

 

 

**The day before the wedding.**

 

Dressed in not quite his Sunday best - Hunk had said ‘dressy but casual’ - Lance parked his precious silver BMW in the church lot. He checked twice that it was securely locked then made his way towards the tall, double-spired cathedral. The weather was pleasant and warm for that time of year, but the chipper, sunniness of the afternoon contrasted starkly with the doom and gloom brewing within him. Barely having talked to anyone since the bachelor party disaster, he was dreading the rehearsal even more than the actual wedding. It would be a much smaller group for one thing - just immediate family and close friends, no more than two dozen people, max. A much thinner crowd to hide amongst. At least at the wedding there’d be over two hundred bodies to put between himself and Shiro and Keith. And other than smoothing things over with Hunk in a single phone call, he’d been completely MIA since the bachelor party. Lance knew there would be questions. Questions he still wasn’t ready to answer.

On his way across the lot, he spied a familiar, boxy-looking vehicle in another line of cars. 

A Jeep. 

_Of course_ Shiro drove a Jeep. It was such a - hey I’m so sporty and rugged and might steal your boyfriend while you’re not looking - kind of car. 

Lance hated Jeeps. 

It probably meant Keith was already there too. His stomach plummeted further. He was fully expecting his ex to give him hell after the way their last encounter had gone. With a final resigned breath, he headed up the church steps, ready to get it over with.

“McClain!”

_Oh, great…_

“Hi Rax…” Lance reluctantly turned. Maybe he didn’t have to worry about facing his friends because he wasn’t even going to make it indoors at this rate. Sauntering over, Rax looked as unfriendly as ever and was probably on his way to tell him off for his behavior at the bachelor party and maybe even kick him out of the wedding like he’d been angling to all along.

Shay’s brother stopped in front of him and Lance waited for the hammer to come down.

“Listen, um...” Rax shifted on his feet. “Apparently I may have said some things at the club that were a little on the ignorant side. Or so I’m told. To be honest, I can’t really remember a lot of the night.” Rax rubbed the back of his neck, bewildered.

Lance tilted his head. Was Rax apologizing? To _him?_

 _Huh…_ He chalked that up as a win.

“Anyway, for whatever was said, I apologize. And I want you to know that I’ve got no problem with you being gay.”

“Bi.” Lance corrected.

“Uh, yeah that.”

“Thanks, Rax.” Lance flashed a toothy grin. “I got no problem with you being straight either.”  
He patted the confused man on the arm and made his way around him with a smirk on his face. 

The unexpected turn of that exchange was enough to put a pep in his step, and in better spirits, Lance managed to slink into the church without being noticed. He proceeded to schmooze with Hunk’s relatives, none of whom were up to date on recent drama.

 

Shiro was waiting for Keith outside a side entrance to the church. 

“Is he here?” Keith asked, flushed and in a rush.

“Yeah.”

“Alright, let’s go talk to him.” He tried to hurry inside but Shiro caught him by the arm.

“Keith, wait- Neither of us are the right people to be doing this.”

“We have to do something!” Keith protested. “I won’t just leave him to the Galra! I _won’t!_ ”

“That’s not what I’m suggesting.” Shiro implored him to hear him out. “But you and I-” Shiro pointed between them. “We aren’t going to be able to get through to him. So I sent someone who can.”

 

“Lance.” 

“A-Allura…” The startled man spun around to gape at his friend who had snuck up on him in the back office that was being used to store coats and belongings. She was wearing a blue and white dress with a subtle floral pattern and high-heeled shoes that matched. And with her hair pulled back from her face in a way that still allowed her curls to flow down her back, she looked positively radiant.

“Lance, we need to talk.” She took a step towards him. 

Her stern face had Lance cowering into a chair behind the room’s dusty old desk.

 

Shiro and Keith waited on either side of the door outside. Keith crouched on the floor tearing a scrap of paper into progressively smaller pieces while Shiro leaned against the wall with one leg up and his arms folded.

“They sure are taking a while,” Keith remarked trying to keep his rising stress levels in check.

“That’s probably a good thing.” Shiro pointed out.

Keith peered through the frosted glass again.

“She’s not- They’re not, like, doing anything _weird_ in there, right?”

Shiro looked at him like he was crazy.

 _“No.”_ He over exaggerated the enunciation.

“Sorry, I just wasn’t sure what you told her to do.”

“I didn’t tell her to do anything. Allura knows how to handle this.”

The door handle clicked. Shiro came off the wall and Keith scrambled to his feet.

Allura stepped out first. Lance followed behind her, eyes downcast and rubbing the back of his neck.

Allura cleared her throat. “Lance? Do you have something you’d like to say?”

“Look, Keith…” Lance sighed wearily. “Whatever you think you saw, I promise it’s not as bad as it looks.” He briefly lifted his eyes to the other man. “It was a one-time thing and we’re never going to talk about it again. And Shiro-” He turned to the other man. “Let’s just get through this wedding. Then we don’t ever have to talk to each other again.” Shiro appeared disheartened at the brush off. “I know you guys have concerns, but I’m _fine,_ ” Lance insisted. “I know what I’m doing and I can take care of myself. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go apologize to Hunk again for throwing him the _worst_ bachelor party in history. And I can’t even blame it on Rax.”

“Oh, and Keith.” Lance stopped a few steps later. “I really am sorry about your lip. I’d never hit you on purpose.”

“I know you wouldn’t.” Keith replied softly.

The three friends watched him go. Keith scuttled off after Lance not long after.

“He’s lying, you know,” Allura said to Shiro when they were alone.

“Oh, I know. I just don’t know what to do about it.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know either.” Her worried eyes followed a swathe of brown hair and gently sloping shoulders. “When does Matt arrive?” She moved on to other matters.

“Around eight this evening.”

She nodded, still looking in the direction of Lance.

“I’ll be out of the house before seven.”

“Allura, you don’t have to-” Shiro reached for her hand but she let it slip through his grasp.

 

Rax had instructed the groomsmen to be ready in the dressing room labeled ‘GROOM’ at 5:45 sharp before the rehearsal commenced. Shiro and Keith were waiting there in the interim.

“You okay?” Keith asked when Shiro seemed agitated.

“Yeah. Just some stuff with Allura.”

“Oh… Sorry. You guys okay?” He hoped he wasn't prying.

Shiro shrugged it off. “We will be.”

They went back to sitting in silence on their phones.

The door blew back on its hinges and Lance appeared in the doorframe.

“Really guys? Sneaking off together in a church?” He threw shade like he’d walked in on something scandalous.

Keith fought very hard not to roll his eyes. They were on completely opposite sides of a room Rax had told them to be in at the exact time he’d said they should be there. He could not think of a worse place to do anything sneaky.

“We were just talking, Lance,” Keith tiredly explained.

“That’s how it starts, isn’t it.” Lance scoffed. 

The apology from earlier, it seemed, had only fouled Lance’s mood.

“Look, if I want to hang out with Shiro, I will hang out with Shiro! You don’t get to control me like that.” Keith put his foot down. 

“Whatever, Keith. I don’t care who you fuck.”

“We are _not_ fucking! He is my boss and my friend. That’s _it._ Nothing has ever happened between us that you don’t already know about.” The point was made a little bitterly.

“Whatever you say. You can make out with him in his wannabe Hummer all day for all I care.”

“Wannabe- what?”

“I think he was insulting my Jeep,” Shiro said aside as Lance huffed himself into a chair against the back wall.

Dressed in a green plaid jacket and black button up, Pidge arrived just in time to diffuse their argument.

“Holy shit... Lance, you're alive?” She gawked at him like she couldn’t believe it.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Lance played it off.

“I don’t know, maybe the fact that you hopped in a car with a _Galra gang leader_ and disappeared might have something to do with it.” Keith sounded more hurt than angry.

Lance glowered at him.

“Wait, he’s a WHAT?” Pidge cried, snapping her head between Keith and Lance, waiting for one of them to explain.

Lance narrowed his eyes at Shiro. He looked to Keith and connected the dots. Clearly they had talked.

“He’s _ex-_ Galra. As in reformed? No more? You can all calm down now.” Lance tried to assuage their concerns. 

Pidge’s jaw still dropped. “An ex-Galra?!”

“Yeah, you can see now why I didn’t say anything,” Lance snapped.

“Oh, wow. Galra tech is like _crazy_ advanced.” The tech-wizard in her made an appearance. “I bet he has some stories. You’re bringing him tomorrow, right?” 

“Pidge, don’t-” But it was too late. Keith had heard. 

“You’re bringing him to the-” Keith’s eyes grew wide and watery. “As in like... a date?” He almost squeaked. 

Lance sighed heavily. Apparently Hunk and Pidge had talked too.

“Yeah, I am.” Wearily, Lance didn’t bother denying it. “I hadn’t had a chance to talk to you about that yet. But Keith, I swear I was going to tell you first. I was trying to the other night-”

“The other night?”

“Yeah, in the booth, but...”

Ice hit Keith’s veins. The whole time he’d been throwing himself at Lance, thinking that it was working, thinking that they were finally getting closer again, when in actuality Lance had been trying to tell him... 

Mortified, Keith hugged his elbows and looked the other way. He had sorely misread that situation. 

“I also told Hunk I wouldn't bring him if it was going to be a problem,” Lance continued. The way his voice softened was not totally voluntarily. “So... Is it going to be a problem?”

He looked to Keith.

“No. Fine by me. Do whatever you want.”

“Keith. Come on...” 

It was clearly not fine.

Shiro cleared his throat by the door. “They’re uh- They’re ready for us out there.”

 

The groomsmen and bridesmaids lined up to practice walking down the aisle on cue. Keith was second in line behind Lance.

“So you really are in a gang now.” 

Lance sighed audibly.

“It’s more of an organization.”

Keith snorted at the euphemism.

Lance was paired up with Esther and Keith was with Allura just behind them. The two girls politely pretended they couldn't hear the exchange.

“And that’s your type, huh? Rich guys with fast cars?” Keith needled him.

Lance turned to glare at him over his shoulder.

“My type is people who don’t cheat on their boyfriends!”

“Think of a new comeback already.” Keith glared back.

The cue was given and with forced smiles Lance and Esther led the procession down the aisle to ear-splitting, wailing organ music and took their places at the altar. Keith lined up next to Lance, Pidge next to him, and Shiro was on the end. Mirrored by the bridesmaids they fanned out in and inverted ‘V’ along the red altar steps. A hole was left for Rax, who was busy directing the photographer. Hunk and Shay’s invited family members watched from the pews with serene smiles.

“Look, if you really don’t want me to bring him-”

“I don’t want you to bring him.”

“You’re not supposed to say that!”

“Ugh, LANCE!”

The pair continued their bickering in hushed whispers.

“All I know is, you went back to someone that was awful to you. Someone that really hurt you.” 

“Is that really your argument? Pot called kettle black, Keith!”

“It’s not the same and you know it.” Keith growled.

“Hey!” Rax snapped in a loud whisper and wedged his way between them. “You’re ruining the photos. Look, you don’t have to like each other, you don’t even have to look at each other, but you gotta be civil for my sister. Now, smile like you mean it.”

They all turned and posed for the camera. The smiles fell off their faces .2 seconds after the flash. Rax warned them one more time to behave before running off to deal with the next thing.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but he’s different now,” Lance continued under his breath. “He’s... good to me. He really is.”

The smile warming Lance’s features made Keith’s blood run cold. Suddenly he was worried on an entirely different level.

“Wait, Lance... Are you in love with him?”

Keith watched Lance’s face like his life depended on it. It looked like he wanted to answer but something was holding him back. And then he didn’t have time to. A soft-spoken, wrinkled pastor stepped out to start a run-through of the ceremony. He announced they’d be skipping having Shay walk down that aisle, joking that a bride should only do that once in her life. 

The beaming bride and groom were brought onto the alter for a few more group photos then taken to meet with a counselor from the church.

“Let’s have someone stand in for them.” The pastor whimsically suggested. “How about... You.” He pointed at Keith.

“Me?” Keith looked unsure.

“Yes, you. Come here. Come. Come. Come…” He gestured as Keith stepped into place. “There we are. Now, you are Shay.”

A few of the bridesmaids giggled. 

“Now, someone to stand in for the groom.” He turned to the snickering girls on his right. 

“Pick Esther. Then it’ll be a gay wedding.” One of the cattier bridesmaids suggested. 

“A gay wedding! Now there’s an idea!” The pastor clapped his hands and rolled with it. “It is 2019, after all. Let’s have... You.” He pointed right at Lance. “The best man can stand in for the groom.”

Lance was stiller than a statue.

Esther put a hand over her mouth and made apologetic eyes at him.

“I’ll stand in for him,” Pidge offered, but Lance put a hand on her shoulder and stepped to the altar across from Keith.

“You really wanna do this?” He growled lethally.

“I didn’t ask him to pick you.” Keith spat back.

“I ask that the couple join hands,” the pastor said.

Neither of them moved.

“I said, I ask that the couple _join hands._ ” The pastor prompted again.

As a truce, Keith held his hands out and Lance limply put his hands in Keith’s. Swallowing, Keith carefully closed his fingers around them. He tried to meet Lance’s eye but Lance wouldn’t look at him. Keith squeezed his hand in an attempt to say _‘please?’_ but, jaw stubbornly set, Lance positioned his gaze somewhere off to the side.

It took a moment for it to sink in, that he and Lance were really at the altar together. At the altar together, and yet... Something in Keith’s stomach was falling.

Falling…

Falling...

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…”

And then it hit rock bottom. 

Keith wanted to die. By the look on Lance’s face, he did too.

“...to join these two before me in holy matrimony.”

It was too real.

The pain threatening to tear through Keith's chest was almost too much to mask because it could have been them. It _should_ have been them. And tomorrow Lance was going to be in that same church with another man on his arm and that just wasn’t the way _any_ of it was supposed to be. Why couldn't Lance see what was so glaringly obvious? Keith bowed his head so Lance couldn't see he was on the edge of some very frustrated tears.

“Ah, yes. Tears. That’s very realistic. They bride often cries.” The pastor outed him anyway.

There was a lot of snickering and unkind mocking.

“No way, they’re exes?!” One of the bridesmaids whispered loudly after someone clued them in and Keith wanted to die ten times more. Shiro and Allura locked eyes but neither of them seemed to know how to stop what was happening. 

The pastor walked them through the steps of the ceremony but Keith, in pure agony, barely followed any of it.

“And now comes the fun part. The vows.” The pastor tried to keep it light. “Now, does the bride have anything to say to the groom?” He joked.

“Oh, I have a lot to say to him.” The remark earned its share of snickers from the crowd but Keith had meant it sincerely.

Lance’s eyes flared for him to _stop._

“And then the traditional vows will go something like this-” The pastor continued, relatively unfazed. “Do you, Shay Balmera, take Hunk Garrett to be your lawful wedded husband, to have and to hold, to love, to honor and to cherish until death do you part?” He read off a page then looked over to Keith. “And then the bride says...”

_My lawful, wedded husband…_

_To have and to hold…_

_...until death do us part?_

Keith lifted his eyes to the man across from him.

“I would.” He said with conviction.

The color drained from Lance’s face and with a hushed gasp the room went quiet. Several hands of those who had caught on were raised to agast mouths. 

All eyes were on the two men at the altar.

“I _still_ would.” Keith said again. 

A crease appeared between Lance’s eyebrows.

“This is it! This is how they get back together!” Pidge excitedly shook Shiro’s arm. He hoped on his lucky stars that she was right.

“Uh, actually it’s _I do_.” The pastor corrected gently.

“I know what I said.” Keith squeezed Lance’s fingers and gazed at him with soft eyes.

“Alright, moving on... The groom would say his vows and…” The pastor droned on about vows and rings while Lance and Keith stared each other down. Keith tried to decipher the expression on Lance’s face. Pain? Sorrow? The deepest, most heartfelt longing? His heart beat wildly, waiting to see how Lance would respond. 

The pastor turned to him.

“And do you Hunk Garratt take-”

“Okay, we’re done here.” Lance pulled his hands free. “Hunk knows what to say, we got the pictures. Thank you, everyone, we’re good.” He exited off the bride’s side of the altar.

“Lance, wait...” Keith went after him.

“Jesus, Keith. Can you not right now?”

“NO!” He grabbed Lance by the elbow as he descended the steps. “No, I can’t not right now because you know as well as I do that that should be _us_ up there! You don’t love him, Lance. I know you don’t!” 

Lance looked around in horror at the gathered families who were witnessing the airing of their dirty laundry.

“Keith, this is not the time or the place-”

“Yes, it is! If not now, then when?” Keith cried. He couldn't keep it inside any longer. All the burning rage and frustration was coming to the surface and instead of trying to stop it or stuff it down, he harnessed it. He was done crying, he was done apologizing, he was done feeling guilty. 

“You know what, Lance? I haven’t done anything with anybody else since we broke up. I’m still committed to you like that, and if you can’t see- Don’t you dare walk away from me. Don’t you _dare!_ LANCE!” He barked as Lance threw his hands up in a ‘not dealing with you right now’ way and continued down the red altar stairs. “Lance, I swear if you don’t-”

“Keith! You are making a scene!” Lance spun around to hiss through his teeth, trying to keep his voice down.

“Fine, I'll make a scene then! Because I asked you to marry me, Lance McClain! And maybe I didn't do it the most romantic way I could have, but I MEANT IT!” Keith stood tall atop the altar. “And when you said yes, I thought you meant it too.”

“I _did_ mean it. But then you-”

“Then I _what?!_ ” Keith shouted in the silent church, sending his voice ringing from the cathedral ceiling. “Did I shut you out? Did I stop loving you? Did I run off with somebody else?”

Lance’s mouth opened but no words came out.

“Lance, you can be mad all you want that I wanted to fuck Shiro...” Several appalled gasps from the audience reminded them that they weren’t alone. “But I was NEVER going to leave you for him!” Angry tears burned Keith’s eyes. “It was you, Lance. _YOU_ are the one that left! _YOU_ are the one that gave up on us!” 

An accusatory finger was aimed his way. The eyes and judgement of the congregation followed it.

Lance’s mouth flapped. 

“You think this is my fault? _Seriously?_ ” He snorted out a huff. “You have a very different version of events than I do.”

Keith shook his head defiantly. “Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you weren’t the one who threw it all away.”

“Threw it away? _Threw it away?!_ ” Lance went from zero to red hot in an instant. He stalked back up the altar steps to be on equal footing with Keith. “Damn right I threw it away! I _had_ to because you ruined it!”

“No, you didn’t! We could’ve fixed it!” Keith insisted. 

“Well, it’s too fucking late now, isn’t it?” Lance bellowed.

“No, it’s not! Lance, this doesn’t have to be over!”

“Yes, yes it does! I left you at the bottom of the ocean, Keith, and I can’t get it back!”

“What the hell are you even talking about?” 

“Hey!” Rax stormed over. “Both of you get it togeth-”

“SHUT UP, RAX!” They shouted together then got right back at each other’s throats.

 

“Hmph, well they definitely shouldn't get back together. Once a cheater, always a cheater, as they say.”

“What? They so clearly still love each other. Isn’t that all that matters?”

“You would say that.”

“What is _that_ supposed to mean?”

A few members of the two families started arguing across the aisle and soon the whole room was in chaos. The mild-mannered pastor tried to restore order but was easily drowned out. 

Hunk and Shay returned to a scene of chaos. The couple, no longer beaming, instead stood with their mouths open before what was supposed to be a dry-run of their wedding.

The oldest of the Balmerans stood at the edge of the kerfuffle fretting and clutching her chest.

“Grandma!” Shay rushed to the ailing woman’s side just as she fainted.

The disarray and pandemonium shifted. The arguing former couple at the center shouted over it until someone yelled for an ambulance.

Shiro got the paramedics on the line first.

One of Shay’s sisters went with their grandma to the hospital while the teary-eyed bride-to-be stayed behind. 

“We can’t have the wedding without her, Hunk. We can’t!” 

“Okay, honey. Let’s just see what they say.” He put an arm around his future wife while the ambulance drove away.

Non-essential family members stayed behind. The remaining group was restless and filled up on provided biscuits and cheese while they waited for news, praying it would still be a wedding and not a funeral.

Keith sat in a pew by himself staring at the floor. He hadn’t spoken to anyone in the time they’d been waiting. People were whispering and giving him dirty looks, but he already knew it was all his fault.

Lance made himself scarce too. Hiding behind Pidge and Allura on the other side of the room, he sat with his face in his hands. First the bachelor party, and now the wedding too? Of all people, Hunk and Shay were the ones who deserved it the least. What the hell had Keith been thinking, putting him on the spot like that?

He made eye contact with his ex exactly once while they were all waiting. Keith’s face was full of apology and regret but Lance didn’t go over to him. What was there to say? Besides, his limbs were still shaking from how fast his heart had been beating when Keith had said he ‘would’.

After what seemed like an eternity, Shay’s phone rang and the room fell quiet. She disappeared into the priest’s quarters with Hunk and Rax. A second eternity, even longer than the first, filled with bated breath passed before Hunk came out to address the crowd with Shay at his side.

“Okay everyone, the good news is, Grandma B is going to be okay.” A wave of relief passed through the crowd. “But they bad news is…”

“We aren’t getting married tomorrow.” Shay’s hand holding her bouquet fell limp at her side.

There was a collective gasp. Even Keith looked up, thinking he'd somehow managed to break up another couple.

“No. No no no. The wedding is not off.” Hunk struggled to regain control of the crowd through which rumors were already flying. “Grandma B needs a little time to rest, so we’re just _rescheduling_ to the next time the church is available. And uh, when is that exactly?”

He hastily looked to the pastor.

“Ah- Well, that'd be about...” The nervous pastor wrang his hands. “Two years from now.”

Shay dropped her bouquet to the floor and made her way up the aisle. The crowd parted for her.

“Shay, honey…”

“I’m going to see Grandma B.”

Lance was at Hunk’s side in an instant. “Hunk, buddy. I’m so sorry. How can I help?”

“Lance, just- Not now.” Hunk tried his best not to snap then ran after his bride.

Lance hung back and waited, overhearing Hunk and Shay trying to negotiate on the availability of the church with the pastor.

“So it’s either get married tomorrow without Grandma B or not until late next year at the earliest?” Shay was beside herself.

“We could always try to find another venue a couple months from now, after she’s recovered.” Hunk suggested.

“In the summertime? Good luck,” Rax scoffed.

“Shay, honey, this is your wedding. What do you want to do?” Hunk turned to his one-day wife. “I’ll marry you any time, any place, you know that.”

“Well, if we aren’t going to have a venue… But without Grandma B…” She continued to struggle with the decision.

“Hey, guys… I think I can help.” Lance stepped in.

“You’ve helped enough already.” Rax looked like he wanted to take him out back and throttle him silly.

“I have a venue you can use.” That at least got Rax to shut up. “It’s not until October, but you’re welcome to it.”

“You just happen to have a venue reserved that’s suitable for an entire wedding?” Rax glared at him suspiciously. “How even-”

Lance glanced subtly at Keith.

“Oh, Lance…” Hunk’s eyes pained. “Buddy, no. That spot was for you guys.”

Lance shrugged helplessly. “It’s not like I’m going to be using it.”

“No, absolutely not. I can’t take your wedding.”

“It’s just a venue.” Lance assured him. “And the caterers and the photographer and maybe some flowers… Look, it’s only scheduled. The final details still have to be set and you can totally make it your own. Besides, my deposit is a sunk cost at this point so...”

“You’re giving them your wedding?” Rax was astonished.

Lance put a hand on Hunk’s shoulder. “It’s what any best man would do. And it’s the least I can offer, considering I had a hand in solidly ruining this one.”

“Lance, I don’t know what to say…” Shay’s eyes shone.

“Take it, along with my sincerest apologies. You guys deserve it.”

Shay wiped her eyes, hugged Lance, kissed her man, then left with Rax to go be with their grandmother.

Lance hung back to talk to Hunk.

“Listen…” He turned to his best friend. “I’ve been thinking that maybe Rax ought to be your best man after all. I’m kinda causing you a lot of trouble.”

Hunk looked at him like he was crazy.

“Nope. Nuh-uh. No way.” He fiercely shook his head. “You are not leaving me with Rax! I want my best friend there, trouble and all.” They smiled at each other. “Besides, we already talked about it and…” Hunk’s expression shifted to something uncomfortable. “You’re not the one getting the boot.”

Lance’s eyes drifted to Keith, who was still sitting by himself in a pew. He swore under his breath and returned his gaze to his best friend. “Be nice about it, okay? Don’t let Rax tell him.”

“I’m always nice. But yeah, I will be.” 

They hugged it out. Lance patted him on the shoulder and left to give Hunk space.

“Hey, Lance.” Hunk called after him. “You and him need to figure it out. Whatever that means. And preferably before my next wedding.”

Lance nodded sadly before retreating from the chaos.

 

Hunk dawdled on his way over to talk to Keith and slowly sat down next to him.

“Hunk, I’m so sorry.” Keith didn't look up from the floor. “I don’t know what came over me. It was just, Lance and the pastor and the vows and…” Keith gave up explaining. He was only going to dig himself in deeper.

“Listen, Keith,” Hunk started mournfully. “I know you’re going through a lot right now, so I’m not mad. And me and Shay, we absolutely still want you to come to the wedding, but we’re going to ask that you sit with the rest of the attendees.”

Not knowing much about weddings, Keith didn’t understand.

Hunk cleared his throat.

“You’re out as a groomsman, Keith. I promise this isn’t personal. We can still cook and hang out and stuff, but I think it’s best you and Lance just aren’t around each other for a while.” 

“Oh,” Keith choked. “Is he still-”

“He’s still gonna be my best man, yeah.”

“And Shiro and Pidge?”

“They’re staying too.”

Keith didn’t know what to say but gave a small nod that he understood.

“I’m sorry.” Hunk offered. “If it was up to me-”

Keith held up a hand for him to stop and managed a meek ‘You’re not the one who should be sorry’. He wanted to say more, that he knew what a shit friend he was, that he accepted full responsibility for ruining everything, but his throat was too locked up to get any of it out.

“I have to go deal with a million other things. I’ll see you around, Keith.” Hunk gave his shoulder a squeeze before leaving him be.

Keith suffered another few minutes in the church. No one was looking at him anymore. He felt invisible, an intruder. Having no business being there, he quietly slipped out of the main hall unnoticed. The heavy, arched doors slammed shut behind him and it felt like the floor was ripped out from under him when they did. 

The one string still connecting him to Lance, to all his friends really, was gone.

He was on his own.

 

 

**Later that night.**

 

Another night, another shift. 

They all blurred together sometimes especially after a day like the one he’d just had.

It was a touch cold in the club for someone wearing next to no clothes, but it would heat up later when the crowd filled out. All the more reason to stay moving and warm himself up. Sometimes he wondered if he was getting too old for this job, but if the dollar bills brimming from his jockstrap and the half dozen sets of eyes ogling him at any given moment were any indication, he was still in his prime.

Shiro sunk low and sported a flirty smile that earned him a five dollar tip. He winked at the shy, college-aged kid with thick, nerdy glasses who’d tucked it in his underwear.

It had been a hell of a day. A hell of a few months really. Nothing seemed certain anymore. The one saving grace was that Matt was currently sleeping in his bed and would be there waiting for him when he got home. There may not be a wedding to celebrate anymore, but at least they’d have the weekend together.

He didn’t know where Allura was staying. She needed her space and he was happy to give it to her. One day, though. Maybe one day they could all agree on their path forward. 

But they weren’t there yet.

Patience. 

Patience yields focus.

Did that even mean anything anymore? Sometimes it felt like he was just patiently waiting for the world to unravel at the tug of the wrong thread. And Shiro knew himself to be a certified thread puller. Like a fidgety child whose curiosity was destined to get the better of him, he just couldn’t help himself.

By his age he should have learned better.

And if that self-deprecating thought wasn’t enough to sour his already tanking mood, a guy from his past had shown up. One mean punk by the name of Sendak. Shiro knew him from his run-in with the Galra. They'd made eye contact earlier in the night. Sendak had flicked his eyebrows with a mocking _‘Hey, Sparkles’_ to make sure he knew he’d seen him. Shiro did his best to put it out of mind after that, even if Sendak was in the back watching him, a bad thread just waiting to be plucked. 

Shiro had mentally snipped that one from the fabric of his life long ago. There were some places even he had learned to not go.

And then the thread Shiro knew he _really_ shouldn’t pull stumbled in the door.

Keith.

Already drunk and well on his way to belligerent. Dressed in a light blue crop top that read _‘Baby’s here’_ in pink, cursive lettering from a trashy store up the street. A red, dick-shaped lollipop in his mouth and a look on his face that said ‘cruising’.

Shiro’s heart sank. 

He looked pretty.

And like a _complete_ disaster.

Like any hot mess that wandered into a hook-up happy gay bar, Keith got a lot of attention. Shiro kept an eye on him from atop his go go stand and watched him get passed around the room half the night, making out indiscriminately and dancing up on whoever came his way. It was a struggle to keep a flirty smile on his face while paying witness to that. 

It was hard to watch him act out and not intervene. It was hard to watch _both_ of them. As competitive as Lance and Keith had always been with each other, trying to out-self-destruct one another was only going to end in catastrophe. But it was part of it. Part of the process. The things he’d done when everything had blown up with Matt and Allura… There were entire _days_ he couldn’t remember from the bender he’d been on. He just hoped Keith and, to a greater extent, Lance, would snap out of it sooner rather than later. Before things were truly irrevocable.

Shiro’s eyes found Keith again. Three men were vying for his attention, a creepy fourth and an awkward fifth lurked on the periphery, and Keith in the middle was eating it up. Shiro resigned to let him be. _‘Baby’_ could hold his own in a fight even when blackout drunk, and so he wasn’t worried. Wasn’t worried, that is, until Keith made his way to the bathroom with Sendak on his tail. The way Keith bit his lip and made eyes at the ex, possibly-still Galra sent emergency flares up in Shiro’s peripheries. He leapt off the gogo stand mid gyration sending dollar bills and glitter flying and bee-lined for the bathroom.

“Move! Out of the way!” He pushed past the lingering bodies to get to the large stall on the end, knowing from experience that’s where Sendak would be.

“Keith!” He kicked the door hard enough to overpower the janky-at-best locking mechanism and found Keith bracing over the toilet with his pants around knees and the meaty, former gangster lubing up behind him. There wasn’t a condom in sight.

“Get away from him, Sendak! He’s not for you,” Shiro barked.

“Easy, sparkles.” Sendak grinned smugly and backed away like he could care less. “Didn’t know he was spoken for.” He muttered something else about Keith that made Shiro’s blood boil on his way out the stall.

“Whata hell, Shirzo?” Keith slurred, struggling to pull his pants up and stay on his feet. “Why y’gotta cock block me like that!” His eyelids weren’t open evenly.

“Put your pants on. And I did you a favor. That guy is bad news.”

Keith blinked and then was over it.

“Fine, _you_ fuck me then!” He groped sloppily at Shiro’s crotch and was confused when his wrist was pushed away.

“How about I take you home instead.”

“Juzt do it here. I already know y’wanna, so jus-” His hands made a grab again.

“Keith, stop.” Shiro stayed kind but firm.

“C’mon, Shiro.” Keith pressed against him. He was warm against his. “Fuck me.”

“No.”

“I said fuck me!”

“Stop-”

“Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck-”

“KEITH!” Shiro seized his wrist and raised his voice. “Not while you're like this!” 

It took a second for the rejection to sink in.

“Fine! I don wanit anyway!” Keith shoved him out of the way and barreled out of the bathroom.

“Keith!” Shiro chased after him, but not caring who he crashed into on the way, Keith was out of the club before he could catch up, and Shiro wasn't about to go running down the street in nout but a jockstrap and g-string. 

“Keith!” He cried from the door.

The drunk man staggering down the block didn’t look back. It tore up his insides to do it, but Shiro let him go. Just like Lance, he couldn't protect him from everything, but at least he’d been able to keep him away from the likes of Sendak and his unprotected dick.

 

Ambling down the streets, drunk, miserable, and blinking back furious tears, Keith fumbled with his phone. He’d just wanted to feel wanted again. To feel worthy of somebody’s love. But even sloshed sideways, he knew he was fooling himself. It couldn't come from just anybody. There was only one person whose attention he craved. It took three tries through his hampered vision, but eventually he got the call to connect.

It went to voicemail, of course.

“LANCE!” He blared into the recording. “Fuck you, you know that? FUCK. _YOU._ ” He roared with a blind rage only available to the truly intoxicated. “Everything has been a disaster since you left. I've pushed everyone away, and now I got nobody left. I don’t- I can’t stop fucking up…” His voice broke and a couple passing him on the street made a wide berth around him. “And it’s all your fault, you hear that! It’s YOUR FAULT!” He turned a corner down a block that looked the same as the last and found his fury again. “It’s like... the closer I get to you the more you pull away. And I don’t want to stay away from you, Lance. I don't wanna!” He slammed his fist into the brick of a nearby wall and slumped against it momentarily. “Because I need you... I need you so bad. I love you, baby. I love you so much you don’t even… Please… I can't… ...without you-” He broke down into sobs as he stumbled down the street with no sense of where he was or where he was going. 

“Just come home, okay? Lance, please...” 

“Come home.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this chapter:  
> \- Somebody makes a declaration.  
> \- Somebody redefines a friendship.  
> \- Somebody gets kicked out of a wedding.
> 
> Answers: Keith, Keith, and KEITH. (Shiro was the perspective I haven't written from before. Hope you enjoyed that!)
> 
> Can't wait to hear your take on Keith turning the tables on Lance. I mean, he's not wrong... Lance is the one that left. *casually provokes you so you sound off in the comments*  
>  
> 
>  **Cool stuff since last time!**  
>  \- A FANFIC by figandmelon! [Please Cope Responsibly](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16912488) You guys... It's so good that I'm declaring it canon in this AU.
> 
> \- I wrote a short [fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16890954) that's not Voltron! It's from a book called What If It's Us and is proof that I _can_ , in fact, write pure fluff.
> 
> So wow, really this update was THREE updates! :P
> 
>  
> 
> Next Chapter: **The Crime** (Who commits the crime? CAST YOUR GUESS [HERE](https://twitter.com/enjayas_writes/status/1072727660437024768)!!!)


	14. Surveillance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance grapples with just how deep his feelings for Lotor run. Meanwhile, Keith comes face to face with the Galra kingpin.
> 
> In this chapter:  
> \- Somebody is blissfully in the dark  
> \- Somebody shows their true colors  
> \- Somebody is in way over their head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 14 Surveillance - aka Keith Kogane’s no good, very bad day and arguably the most fucked up chapter of the fic.
> 
> (Anything in parenthesis is spoken in Spanish.)
> 
> This is not **‘The Crime’** , though I suppose technically a crime does happen in this chapter. But it is not the _titular_ crime you were promised. You’ll be getting that next time. Sorry for the mix up but it’s high time y’all were reminded what a menace Lotor can be. 
> 
> Thank you to theashesofthefirststar for beta-ing this chapter and theonemaye for the Spanish!
> 
>  **Ship Warnings:** soft Lancelot
> 
>  **Triggers Warnings:** There’s a dubcon/noncon situation and things get a bit heavy. If you have specific concerns, feel free to message me.
> 
> I’m sorry in advance.

  


Shielding his eyes from the harsh light of the morning, Keith tumbled into the back seat of an Uber and slammed the door shut so hard behind him that it left his ears ringing. It was barely 7am and his head was heavier than a bowling ball and easily twice as dense. He'd made the executive decision to use the last 10% of his phone’s battery life to splurge on a ride home so he didn’t have to do the walk of shame in a truly cringe-worthy _‘Baby’s Here’_ crop top. Keith couldn't for the life of him explain what had happened to the shirt he'd gone out in. He had a pretty good idea, though, of how he’d lost his pants... He’d woken up on somebody’s living room floor with no idea where he was, how he got there, or who the man lying next to him was. 

He hadn’t stuck around to get a better look at the guy but the balding patch and liver spots on the back of his head had been enough to make him gag. At least he'd found his jeans flung over the back of the couch and managed to make a fast exit before his host had woken up. He grumbled at the decisions that were fast catching up to him and sank into the back seat as the car took off.

His head hurt. 

His heart hurt more.

Shiro had texted him in the wee hours of the morning.

[1:36AM] S: Keith, please come back.  
[1:36AM] S: I’ll give you a ride home.  
[2:15AM] S: Checking in… Are you okay??  
[2:49AM] S: Alright, just text me when you’re home safe.

[7:09AM] K: I’m on my way now.

[7:09AM] S: Just now??

[7:12AM] K: yup  
[7:12AM] K: no battery. bye.

He slumped low in the seat and shut his eyes, not wanting to deal with Shiro, or anybody else for that matter, right that second.

 

Not long after he arrived home there was a knock on his front door. Keith answered it, hair still damp from a much-needed shower. He stepped out of the way with a minimal eye roll to let his visitor inside. 

“Late night?” Keith was asked, though Shiro looked tired too, like he hadn’t slept.

“Save me the dad speech. It’s not sexy.” Keith was fresh out of pleasantries. 

Shiro pulled out a folding chair from the kitchen table anyways and looked at him in a way that made Keith feel like a teen that had broken curfew and was about to be grounded. With a huff, Keith pushed aside the clutter of Spanish books and dirty plates and planted himself in the seat across from him.

“Do you even know where you were last night?” 

Shiro was annoyingly calm.

“I went out.” Keith shrugged defiantly. 

So he’d gotten a little drunk. Big deal. Nobody had died.

“Do you know who you saw?” Shiro continued. 

He was met with irritated silence.

“Because I saw you last night.” 

“Y-You did?” Keith’s nerves hitched.

Shiro nodded.

“You came by the club I was working.”

Keith’s eyes widened with fear. He couldn't remember. More unsettling was how it harkened back to a very similar conversation he’d once had with Lance over the breakfast table after a night of heavy drinking. The worst case scenario flashed before Keith’s eyes. He’d gotten way too drunk and slept with Shiro - who was also his _boss!_ \- and now everything was going to be awkward forever. That didn’t explain how he’d woken up on somebody else’s floor, but still!

“Oh god, did we-” Keith cringed.

“Oh, believe me, you tried.”

Keith nearly swallowed his own tongue.

“But no. We didn’t.” Shiro let him off the hook. “I don’t know where you ended up.”

“Well, ah- Thanks for shooting me down or whatever.” Keith couldn’t look at him. It was mortifying. He knew what he was like when he was wasted. All impulse and no shame, he could only imagine what a fool he’d made of himself.

“I’m worried about you, Keith.” Shiro’s brow crested. “You came close to doing something really stupid last night. And not with me. Do you even know if you were with anyone?”

“I don’t know. Probably.” Keith refused to be bashful about it. It wasn’t any of Shiro’s business and he was not one to be slut shamed.

“Were you at least safe about it?”

“I…” His bravado faltered.

“Jesus, Keith.” Shiro put his face in his hand. “If you’re going to end up in situations like that, then at least start taking these.” A small pharmacy bag was set on the table. “It’ll stop you from getting sick.” Shiro got up to fill a glass in the bathroom, leaving Keith to gingerly inspect the bag.

“PrEP?” Keith read off the side of the paper. He’d never heard of it.

“What the heck is this?!” Keith heard the cry emanate from the hallway and remembered that he’d left his Galra research board tucked away against a wall there.

“Nothing!” Keith launched out of the chair to pull it from Shiro’s hands. “You didn’t see anything.”

“Keith, do not go messing with the Galra!” If Shiro had looked frazzled before, it didn’t hold a candle to the desperation that seeped from him now. “It is the best way I can think of to end up in over your head!” 

“You mean like Lance clearly is? Why are you so against helping him!” Keith sparked hostile and held his research protectively away from the other man.

“Because he isn’t going to listen to reason right now!” 

“You don’t know that!”

“Yes I do! It’s exactly like Allura and Ma-” Shiro caught himself. 

Keith, eyebrows lifted, waited expectantly for what _that_ was about.

Shiro sighed heavily and set the glass of water on the table in front of Keith’s seat. They both sat down again.

“It’s exactly like Allura and Matt.” Shiro continued, returning to even-measure. He opened the orange, translucent pill bottle and tapped one out into Keith's waiting palm before fishing one out for himself. “The more I push them to reconcile, to sit down and talk it out…” He tossed the blue pill in his mouth and swallowed it dry. “The more stubborn and determined Allura becomes to never be in the same room as him.”

The cap was snapped back on and the bottle set firmly down on the table. 

“Wait, they were… together? How is that possible? You and Allura-”

“Swallow that and I’ll tell you why.” Shiro pointed at the pill in Keith’s hand.

Keith reached for the water and down the hatch it went.

“They’re not together anymore because I broke them up, Keith.” Shiro made good on his promise but rubbed his forehead like he wasn’t proud of it. “I didn’t mean to, but it’s how things happened.”

Groggy though he was, Keith was suddenly seeing Shiro in a whole new light.

“And now you’re with _both_ of them.”

Shiro nodded.

“But they’re not with each other. They’re not even friends?”

“Not yet.” Shiro remained hopeful.

“So, with me and Lance, you were trying to-”

“Keith, no. Of course not.” Shiro waved his hand, shooing away that line of thinking. “Look, I know there are some unfortunate parallels, but they are two very different situations.”

“Uh-huh.” Keith lidded his eyes, doubtful.

“Keith, you have to believe me. I would never intentionally-”

“Ugh, okay fine!” Keith clutched his throbbing skull. He just wanted Shiro to shut up. It was already a lot to wrap his head around and they were so far off topics that mattered. “Look, we have to do something about Lance. He’s not okay, Shiro! _He is with the Galra!”_

“I know,” Shiro replied sincerely. “The truth of it is, I don’t know how to help Lance right now. But I know what’s _not_ going to help him.” He straightened in his seat and looked at Keith meaningfully. “Anything I do is to try to make this better is only going to backfire, and I think-” Shiro’s face pained. “I think the same is true for you too. The closer you get, the more he digs in.”

“Then how are we going to get him out?” Keith clutched at air.

“Keith…” Shiro wet his lips, procrastinating. “I don’t think we can. He has to _want_ to get out first, and no amount of pushing from you or me is going to make that happen.”

Keith’s mouth hung slightly agape at their sobering reality. He slowly slumped back in his seat as the impossibleness of it set in.

“When he does though, we’ll be there for him,” Shiro promised. “But it might take time, and I want you to prepare yourself for that.”

Keith put his face in his hands, neither accepting nor fighting it either.

With one more sad twitch of his lip, Shiro rose from the table and started to see himself out.

“Finish off those meds.” He called from the door. “And Keith-” The man at the table didn’t look up. “Just, be a little more responsible. If not for you, then for the people that care about you. That applies to the Galra too.” He swung the door open again to add.

It finally shut.

“ _That applies to the Galra too._ Okay, _Dad._ ” Keith mocked once he was gone. He left the meds on the bathroom counter though so he wouldn’t forget to take them, wrapped himself in a blanket, and promptly passed out.

 

\-----

 

Across town and forty two floors in the sky, Lance awoke late in the morning in a sweaty tangle of limbs and sheets. The sun shone brilliantly through the window, warm and bright against his naked skin. He and the bed’s other occupant had spent the hours before dawn binging on each others bodies in a cocaine-infused night of carnal indulgence. For Lance, at least, it had been to take his mind off things. Things that were creeping back in now that he was conscious and sober again.

He hadn’t thought it was possible, but he did… He felt bad for Keith. That idiot had embarrassed himself so _thoroughly_ , had _ruined_ a wedding and nearly killed Shay’s grandmother. There was no coming back from that. Sure he’d had a hand in it, but Keith had started it. And after springing all that stuff on him at the altar of all places. Even if there was a little voice in the back of his head saying that Keith had a point, that he'd given up too soon, that didn’t mean he was going to drop everything he had with Lotor and just... 

Lance pressed a pillow to his face and let it absorb his groan.

His ex had left him a voicemail too. Lance had seen the notification for it between rounds with Lotor. He hadn’t listened to it, but he hadn’t deleted it yet either. It was weighing on him. _Keith_ was weighing on him. Lance asked himself for the thousandth time why he couldn’t just let it go. 

Searching blue eyes landed on a bottle of half-finished vodka on the dresser. No, it was too early to start drinking. His gaze drifted to the metal tray with an unfinished line on the nightstand next. But if it was too early for alcohol, it was _definitely_ too early to get high. Lance turned onto his side and tightened his arms around his preferred drug of choice instead.

Lotor stirred in his embrace and with a suggestive caress of his hand, proposed reigniting the fun from the night before.

“I’m not really in the mood.” Lance shifted away from his touch but didn’t unlatch himself from the man’s torso.

“Unusual.” Lotor remarked. Brown hair was swept back from a forehead so a sleepy kiss could be planted there. Lance barely blinked. “You’re distant.”

“I’m just bummed about the wedding. It would’ve been nice to go somewhere public with you. It would’ve made this feel more _real_ or something. I don’t know. Sorry, I’m really out of it.” Lance curled up miserably, wanting nothing more than to be able to move on, be in love with someone new, and not have to think about anything named Keith anymore. Especially when Lotor had been nothing but generous, giving, and frankly, _honest_ with him since the day he’d walked into that hotel suite. He clung to the body in his arms. Why wasn’t that enough?

Lotor’s arms came around him.

“Yes, it would’ve been nice to get all dressed up with you, but darling, of course this is real.”

“Yeah, I guess…”

The Garrison boy’s forlorn face was not lost on Lotor. 

“Well listen, what’s stopping us?”

“Huh?”

“Let’s do it. Let’s get dressed to the nines and-”

“Go to a w-w-wedding?” Lance stiffened. Was Lotor really suggesting that they…

“Well, I was thinking a date. That usually comes before the wedding, no?” Lotor teased kindly. 

“Oh, right. That makes sense.” Lance relaxed behind his embarrassment for jumping to conclusions.

“Lance, darling…” Lotor took his hand. “Would you do me the honor of joining me for an evening out? A very _public_ evening out.”

A flicker lit up dull eyes but it’s blaze was halted. “Wait, that means a date, right?”

“Yes, Lance. A date.”

The flicker roared to a full burn.

“R-Really? Like, where people can see us?”

“Oh, people will see us. I’ll make sure of it.” Lotor chuckled.

“Yeah, I’d like that. I really would.” Lance melted into him.

“I’ll see that it happens then.”

“So where are you gonna take me?” On his stomach, Lance hooked his heels together and propped his chin up on his hands with an impish smile.

“I’m not- going- to tell you.” Lotor tapped cheek, cheek, and then nose.

“What!” Lance shrieked. “How is that fair?”

“It’s not. But you’re adorable when you pout.” A thumb was brushed across a plump lip. “Give me some time to get the details settled. But I promise you, we will have our night out.” He pulled Lance close and brought their lips together. 

Lance leaned into the kiss with all his might, as if his mouth contained the salve for a broken heart.

 

**Later that week.**

Still finding the right balance between coworkers and friends, Shiro and Keith had a tenuous week at the gym, but they got through it. Keith caught his new boss checking him out at least once and he’d been guilty of doing the same a handful of times too. He was thinking of proposing a ‘shirts must be worn at all times’ rule to help mitigate the accidental slips.

They were finishing cleaning up after the last class of the afternoon. Keith made sure the mats were stacked perfectly and that the dumbells were arranged in numerical order before he called it a day. The tutoring center had drastically cut his hours, essentially putting him on probation, after he’d not shown up for a week straight, which meant the gym was now his primary source of income. Even if he knew Shiro would go easy on him, he was being careful not to jeopardize it.

His social life remained in shambles too. He hadn’t been brave enough to reach out to Hunk or Pidge since the wedding fiasco, choosing to lay low until things blew over. They hadn’t reached out to him either, so the feeling, it appeared, was mutual. For all the tumult of the last few weeks and the fact that his social circle had been whittled down to a single line between him and Shiro, Keith was in better spirits than to be expected because... 

He’d figured out where Lance was staying.

“You remembering to take those meds?” Shiro badgered him again while he locked the gym’s main entrance.

“Yes, _Dad._ ” Keith called him off.

“Just lookin’ out for you.” Shiro held up his hands that he meant no harm. “Hey, you got plans after this? Allura's been saying she’d love to have you over for dinner sometime.”

“Oh, no thanks. I have some stuff I gotta do.” 

“Stuff?”

“Yeah, just… stuff.”

“Alright, I won't pry.” Shiro chuckled. “Great work today, Coach Keith.” He knocked him on the shoulder and headed to the locker room.

Keith heaved with relief that Shiro hadn’t pressed him. He was awful at lying and he had stuff to do, alright. Most of his research regarding the mysterious _Mister LSD_ had turned up little of interest, but thanks to remembering Lance’s Amazon password, he now knew where his former boyfriend’s packages were being delivered: To a ritzy hotel in the heart of downtown that, following more internet sleuthing, Keith had determined to be owned by none other than Mister LSD, himself.

It was a sobering revelation that they were living together.

He’d already driven by a few times since to scope it out. It had been tricky to find because there wasn’t any signage or lettering with the name on the front, but the towering skyscraper looked every bit as fancy as the online reviews implied. That afternoon, he intended to have a closer look.

Even if it might be safer to, Keith knew he couldn't tell Shiro. He would only try to stop him.

And Keith was not about to be stopped.

 

\---

 

“What is it, Zethrid?” Lotor appeared in the dank surveillance room, cradling a cat in his arms like a baby. The only lighting in the small room came from the dozen or so large flat screens set up like a control center.

“Sir, he’s back again.” The camera zoomed in on a slender man with shaggy, dark hair in a red t-shirt. “And this time, he was ballsy enough to actually come inside.”

“I see.” Lotor leaned closer to the monitors, eyes narrowing with recognition. The watched man was in line at the hotel’s cafe, under the guise of purchasing coffee. But unlike every other patron in line, he wasn’t absorbed in his cell phone or staring boredly at the baristas making drinks. His head swiveled, eyes darting intelligently, taking in every nuance of his surroundings.

For a second he looked directly at the camera then squared his shoulders to it. A scowl - a challenge even - was issued.

“Feisty, that one. He’s going to be fun to break,” Lotor mused. 

“Should we intervene? I can have security throw him out, bar him from the premises,” Zethrid offered.

“No.” Lotor straightened. “Let him look around. He won’t find anything. In fact-” A sinister smile spawned on pale lips. “Perhaps we ought to give him a little something to chase. After all, he keeps coming back for a reason. It’d be rude to send him away empty-handed.”

“Say the word and I’ll go up there and nab him.” Zethrid cracked her knuckles.

“Not just yet. I want to see exactly how brave our visitor is.” They continued to watch as the man in red wandered through the hotel lobby having a look around. The camera switched angles when he got into an elevator. The button labeled ‘42’ for the top floor was pressed repeatedly but it didn’t light up. He didn’t have a key card to activate it.

Lotor’s eyes narrowed.

“Call security to the front lobby.” He instructed. “He’ll scatter as soon as he sees them. But he’ll be back. Oh yes, he will be back. And we’ll be ready with a proper reception when he returns.”

“Yes, sir.” Zethrid radioed it in.

“I see what you’re doing and I’m already one step ahead of you.” Lotor muttered under his breath to the man on the screen. “What do you think, Cova? Shall we extend a proper invitation to our uninvited guest?” He tickled under her chin as he left the control room. 

The cat purred loudly in his arms.

 

**A few days later.**

Lotor was working busily at his desk in the main room of the hotel suite. The _clickety-clack, clickety-clack_ of his keyboard echoed over the faint purr of the cat in his lap. The generals were elsewhere too, busy with their own assignments. It had been like that a lot lately. There was a big press event for the hospital the following week they’d all been crunching for. Everyone except Lance, that is. He wasn’t involved in that project and he’d had a lot of time to himself because of it. 

Lance didn’t like being left alone. It gave him too much time to think, and promise of a date or not, he was feeling a bit neglected. He kept glancing at the silver-haired man from where he sat perched on the couch, hoping to catch his eye. 

He stretched loudly and arched his back to try and get his attention.

It didn’t work.

Lance kicked his legs over the back of the sofa in what he considered to be a very inviting position and cleared his throat expectantly.

_Clickety-clack, clickety-clack, clickety-clack._

He garnered no attention.

With a sigh Lance folded onto his side.

“Hey, Lotor…” 

“Mm?” The man didn’t look up.

“How come you’re never rough with me?”

The man stopped typing and lifted his head, perplexed by the question.

“You know, like you used to be. When I knew you before.” Lance knew he was wading into dangerous territory, bringing up Empire G.

“Is that what you want?”

“I dunno.” The Garrison boy shrugged. “Sometimes it’s kinda fun to feel out of control, ya know?”

“Noted.”

Lance waited.

“ _Now,_ please?”

“Oh, well you should have said so.”

Lotor shut his laptop, deposited the cat on the floor, and rose from his desk. Lance tensed as he approached, experiencing minor flashbacks of the man he’d known at Empire G.

Playing into the fear as much as he dared, he backed away from the looming figure until his back hit a wall. The man pushed him into it, trapping him there with his own weight. Lance looked up into his face, searching for the Silver he’d originally fallen for, the Silver that he’d loved. Desperately wanting to be back in that headspace, he sought to recreate the circumstances under which he’d fallen in love in the first place.

“Is this what you meant?” The man asked smugly, leaning into him.

“Uh, sort of…”

Lance gasped with surprise as his wrist was thrown overhead and pressed to the wall. 

“How about now?” The man’s grip was firm but it didn’t hurt. 

“Closer…” 

A hand slipped under his shirt in the same breath that teeth met neck. Lance arched into it, but it wasn't quite doing it for him yet. 

“More.” He whispered.

The grip on his wrist tightened as did the pressure between their bodies. Nails dragged up his thigh, his side, catching and lifting his shirt a smidge. They traced dangerously along his jaw then delved into his hair. Lance inhaled sharply, trying to buy into the moment, as Lotor gripped a handful of it, tugging his head to the side just so and exposing more neck. The Garrison boy’s eyes fluttered shut and he _willed_ himself to yield full control to the other man.

A watch buzzed over both their heads, interrupting the moment. Lotor’s eyes reflexively snapped to it.

“Don’t answer it.” Lance grasped at the loose fabric of his shirt, pulling it taught. 

The man’s gaze flitted to the device again.

“Silver, please…” Blue eyes echoed the plea.

“I’m sorry, darling. I have to take this one.” He kissed Lance on the cheek, scooped up the cat and his laptop, and was out the door before his paramour could protest further. 

Lance huffed at the empty apartment once he was gone. It was the complete opposite of what he’d asked him to do and yet if he’d been hoping to recreate a fraction of the turmoil he’d experienced at Empire G he had absolutely succeeded. On his own again, Lance was confused, rejected, and above all else, _frustrated_. The only thing that made it not smack of the mind games of old was that he knew Lotor was busy with a lot of work for his hospital.

Returning to the bedroom, Lance face planted into the mattress with a heartfelt sigh and tried not to think about the unlistened-to voicemail that had been burning a hole in the back of his brain all week.

 

A short while later, Lance was curled up on his side boredly watching videos on his phone and nursing feelings of rejection. He’d often wondered which Lotor would pick if it ever came down to it: his gang/hospital empire or him. Now he knew. Maybe it was better that he didn’t fully love him after all. Twitchy fingers were hovering over his voicemail app when Lance thought he heard someone arrive. 

“Silver?” Ever hopeful, he pushed himself upright just as a hurried Lotor appeared in the bedroom. “You’re back!” Lance delighted.

“Sorry darling, business pulled me away at a most inopportune time. I haven’t got long, but I just couldn’t stay away.” Lotor smiled fondly. “Now, I believe you had a request.” He said as he stripped off his shirt and cast it to the floor. 

Hungry blue eyes wafted over cascading, white locks, sleek abs, and artistically pierced nipples.

“Somebody likes what he sees.” Lotor flirted, stepping closer.

“Yeah, I do.” Lance grinned, touched that Lotor had come back for him.

Lotor allowed another moment for eyes to devour before a devious smile flashed and Lance was thrown backwards onto the bed. The man was on top of him in an instant, pinning the same hand overhead and kissing him hard.

“Fuck yes!” Lance gasped and pulled their mouths together again. “God, I want you to fucking destroy me.”

He didn’t have to force it this time. Solidly in the moment, Lance was willingly torn from his clothes. Lotor lost the last of his garments too and perched on the mattress before Lance’s splayed knees, giving him a full view while he lubed up.

“It’s going to be a bumpy ride.” Lance bit his lip and trailed his long fingers down the man’s studded shaft.

They shifted and Lance sighed gleefully as the man entered him, feeling every one of the studs on the way. 

Their hips slid flush once, twice, thrice...

“Harder.” Lance urged him on, hooking his legs around him.

Loud slapping sounds rose up from the bed.

“Ah- Harder…” Voices heightened. Lance gripped the pillow behind his head. Eyes fluttering shut again, he reached down to touch himself.

Without warning, Lotor flipped him over and took him from behind. Lance moved readily into the position where those studs really worked their magic. The sensation sent him collapsing to his elbows.

“Silver, yes!” Lance grasped at the sheets, forehead bowing to the linens, as nails that left red, welted lines scraped down his back.

He was pulled up by the torso and held flush against the man. An arm snaked around his front bringing slender but powerful fingers to his jaw. His head was twisted back to meet a waiting mouth. Their kiss was sloppy and flanked by heated breaths. Murmuring soft nothings, Lotor pressed his cheek to Lance’s after, holding him firmly in place by the jaw. Lance leaned into him, absolutely melting for it with a grateful moan. It was every bit the roughness he’d asked for and yet incredibly tender and intimate at the same time. Rejection and doubt were dispelled, and with trust left in their place, Lance relinquished himself to Lotor just as he had so many years prior.

“Come for me, darling. Like this.” 

Both on their knees in the dead center of the bed, the man held him tight. He couldn’t move. At the mercy of Lotor’s hips and hands, Lance’s body grew tight, his breaths deep and frantic. Lotor’s hand moved beneath his naval to touch him.

“Ah- Oh god.” Lance’s head was thrown back against Lotor’s shoulder. “I’m gonna- fuck- Silver. I’m coming! I’m coming! I’m com-ngh...”

“That’s right, darling. Just like that.”

Lance gasped and heaved and thrust into the hand that milked him dry. The arm that bound him released and he was allowed to topple forward to his hands where immediately he fell torso-flush against the bed. A fist was in his hair fast, craning his neck up from the mattress. Loud slapping resumed as Lotor pounded into him. Lance, pinned to the sheets and reduced to sensory input alone, twitched with pleasure-filled aftershocks.

This. This was what he’d wanted. To be so utterly gone for someone that the rest of the world fell away. His vision tunneled on Lotor’s hand clasped firmly over his own, and for a fleeting moment, he was in love.

In a trusting, submissive daze, Lance was flipped over again like a wet rag doll. They weren’t finished yet.

Lotor gestured at his watch, the controller for the vibrating contraption in the steel rod through the head of his cock. Already buried deep inside Lance and at-the-ready, with a flick of his eyebrows the man tacitly asked for permission.

Lance’s eyes lit up.

“Wreck me.” He barely had the breath to breathe it.

With a loving twitch of a smile, the man tapped the button.

Almost instantly, Lance was moaning unintelligibly and writhing wildly against the sheets. Hips flush with Lotor’s and legs coiling around him, Lance came and he came and he came… 

And eventually Lotor did too, with him. Falling over his Garrison boy, their bodies melded together from head-to-toe. And Lance, with a hand pressed to a pale chest beneath which lay a rapidly beating heart, had never felt closer to him.

The vibrations finally stopped. Gasping and glistening with shaky limbs, Lance fell limp against the sheets. He pulled the man down to meet him, kissing him as long as he could before he had to break for air.

“Well?” Lotor chuckled proudly, propping himself up on an elbow and sweeping a brown lock from a sweaty forehead.

“Oh my god, Lotor...” Lance grinned giddily up at him. “Seriously, that dick of yours is the ninth wonder of the world!” 

“There’re only seven wonders of the world.” The man chuckled.

“Whatever,” Lance laughed happily and hooked his arms around him. “Easily the best sex I ever had! First and best.”

“Now, I didn’t know I was your first.” Lotor tilted his head gently.

“You were.” Lance’s eyes grew soft. “You were a lot of firsts actually.” His fingers delved into long, white strands.

“Darling…”

They kissed again.

(You look beautiful in this light.) Lotor stroked his Garrison boy’s face.

Lance kissed his wrist.

(I’m excited for our date.) His already flush face hid his blush.

(I’ll have more to share with you on that soon.) Lotor grinned with mystery.

(Can I have a hint?)

(Galra minus one letter.)

Lance cocked his head at the riddle and dizzily got lost in crystal blue eyes again.

(I love that you can speak Spanish with me.) He whimsically played with Lotor’s hair. (Makes you feel like home.) 

(I would very much like to be your home.) Lotor leaned down to softly kiss him.

“Alright, I have to get back to work. But Lance...” Lotor took his hand and pressed his lips to it. “Never forget how important you are to me.”

“You’re important to me too.” Lance replied.

With one more squeeze of his hand, Lotor rose from the bed. Lance watched doe-eyed while he dressed. The unrest that had been brewing in him earlier was quieted, forgotten nearly. This was not the same man he’d known at Empire G and Lance didn’t need him to be. The Silver he’d fallen for back then and the Lotor he’d come to know since had fused together in his mind and heart and was embodied by the man in front of him. A man for whom Lance harbored a complex tangle of emotions. A man that outside of orgasmic hazes he maybe even... loved?

“Hey, Lotor,” Lance called to him as he was on his way out. 

The man turned to him.

“I want you to know that I-” The words caught in Lance’s throat. He still wasn’t sure. Something was holding him back.

“Yes?” Lotor waited.

“Nothing. I’ll see you later.”

With one last tender smile, the silver-haired man was gone.

Lance smiled fondly at the space he had occupied, at a stiller peace than he’d known all week. Kicking back against the pillows - voicemails and the like drifting out of mind - Lance gazed dreamily at the ceiling and imagined the upcoming date with a man he was steadily on his way to loving. 

 

**90 Minutes Earlier**

Keith was in the cafe across the street from Hotel G. There was a table in the window that had a direct view of the main entrance that he'd staked out for the last few days in case Lance came out. 

He didn’t.

Keith was starting to think maybe he had the wrong place, but according to his Amazon history, a package for Lance had been delivered there two days prior. It didn’t make sense. Maybe there was a back entrance for residents he didn’t know about or maybe Lance just never left.

Maybe he couldn’t. 

Anxiety started twisting Keith’s insides into loops and he was considering texting Lance outright to come meet him across the street when something caught his eye.

Not Lance, but another man of interest. One with long, flowing hair clad in a dark trench coat and boots. White mane blowing in the wind, he was crossing the street and heading towards the very cafe Keith was inside. Startled, Keith quickly hid behind one of his Spanish textbooks as the man came through the door.

Heart beating wildly, he waited for a confrontation to unfold, but instead the man quietly got in line.

“Mister LSD!” 

Keith jumped, nearly spilling his coffee, when someone jubilantly cried that name. 

“Charley, hello!” The man embraced a young employee in an apron who had previously been behind the counter. “How is your mum?”

“Much better, thanks to you.”

The boy’s father and cafe owner came up beside his son and handed the long-haired man a cup of the house special.

“I’m so very glad to hear that.” He graciously accepted and held out a few singles in exchange. 

“No, no. You don’t pay for coffee here.” The owner staunchly refused his money.

“Give my best to Eleanor and the kids.” The man smiled and lifted his cup to the pair. 

Keith was shocked at how _normal_ the exchange made him seem. Bewildered, he watched the man tuck a twenty into the tip jar then about face, coat swooshing, and head towards the door.

Keith didn’t think twice about it. He scrambled to pack up his books and notes and followed after him.

He trailed a good distance behind _Mister LSD_ but not so far that he risked losing him if the man suddenly turned a corner. Not having expected to run into him, Keith didn’t really have a plan. He wasn’t even sure what his goal was, but he knew one thing: He _had_ to follow that man. In all likelihood, it would lead him directly to Lance. 

The tall man in the coat went up a private drive along the side of the hotel where the valets parked cars. His boots clicked on the cobblestone pavement.

Keith paused to tie a red bandana around his face then padded silently along behind him.

The man turned a corner into a narrow corridor, one that perhaps led to a back entrance, but when Keith followed him round the bend, he was gone.

“What?” Keith blinked at the decidedly empty alley.

“Looking for someone?” A voice said behind him.

Keith spun around with fists raised and found himself face to face with the man he’d been tailing. He wasn't armed but Keith instantly regretted not bringing a knife.

“You really think I can't tell when I'm being followed? You clearly don't know who you're playing with.” The man casually sipped his coffee.

“I know who you are!” Keith growled.

“I know who you are too, _Keith Kogane._ ” Piercing eyes fell on him.

“You need to let Lance go!”

The man laughed pompously. 

“You seem to be under the impression that he isn’t here of his own volition and free will.”

Keith grit his teeth, on high alert. He already knew this guy was sneaky.

“Now, now. Where are my manners? Girls?” The man clapped his hands.

“Hi, I’m Ezor.” A bubbly, pink-haired girl with a high pony tail popped out of nowhere. “Have you met my friend, Zethrid? She gives the best hugs.”

A thick, tree trunk of an arm was around Keith’s neck.

“You should know better than to leave yourself wide open, kid.” A gruff voice rasped in his ear.

He fought against the chokehold but it did little good. He couldn't see who the person behind him was, but they'd have easily given Shiro a run for his money.

Struggling to breathe, Keith dropped to his knees. The last thing he remembered seeing was a smug face shrouded in ghostly white hair sneering down at him before his vision went dark.

 

\--- 

 

“Wake him up.”

With the aid of some smelling salts, Keith snapped to consciousness in a panic and still fighting the arm he thought was around his neck. He struggled but soon found he couldn’t move his arms or legs, and it wasn’t an arm but something was still choking him. The realization that he was shackled to a chair and gagged with his own bandana set in, leading to further panic. 

Wide eyes darted through their surroundings. It was dark and hard to see. There were no windows or lights but for blinking, blue computer screens and lots of them. He was in a basement or something, though it was more akin to a dungeon. And he wasn’t alone. The Galra gang leader he’d unwittingly followed stood right in front of him and several smaller bodies, too, occupied the cramped space. Catching a glimpse of the sharp eyes above him, Keith fiercely tried to wrestle himself free again.

The man towering over him stroked the cat in his arms and waited patiently until he was out of breath.

“Are you quite finished?”

Keith’s dark eyes glared through each breath he heaved.

“So much spunk and yet you were easier to catch than a starving alley cat.” The man sighed with disappointment. “Such a waste.”

Keith snarled and chomped at the cloth in his mouth.

“I think he’s trying to say something.” A playful female voice behind him said. 

Someone untied the gag.

“-fucking kill you!” Keith exploded. “Lance, where are you?”

“ _As if_ he can hear you.” The man sighed boredly. It was the verbal equivalent of an eye roll.

“What do you want?” Keith growled.

“It’s simple, really.” A long finger with a sharp nail at the end tickled the cat’s nose. “For you to stay out of the picture.” 

“Fuck you.”

“I’m giving you a choice. Agree to stay away from Lance and I’ll make this easy for you.”

The offer only made Keith’s glare intensify. This guy was kidding himself if he thought he would ever agree to such a bargain.

“I thought you might need convincing.” Lotor’s lip twitched. He snapped his fingers and images of Lance smiling and lounging around the hotel suite began to scroll across the display of stacked monitors like a screen saver.

“Lance has a good life here.” He gazed fondly at the pictures. “He is provided for, he is supported, he is loved-”

“BULL SHIT!” Keith cried.

“-and has not a care in the world.” Lotor went on like Keith hadn’t interrupted him. “Can you give him this life, Keith? Can you really make him happy?”

“You don’t love him!” Keith snarled. “You are toxic, abusive scum! There’s no way you could ever make him happy!”

Delight flourished on the man’s features.

“I’m about to show you how very wrong you are.” 

Lotor set down the cat and made for the door.

“Make sure he watches.”

 

Keith was left in near-darkness and silence. A hooded figure manned the controls in front of all the monitors, but none of the other women in the room would look at him. The one to his right that seemed to be in charge looked vaguely familiar but Keith couldn't place her.

He jumped when the cat that had been in the man’s arms hopped into his lap. Purring, she rubbed her face against his torso and tickled his nose with her tail. Keith sneezed, evidently allergic.

“Prepare transmission.” A signal came over a radio. 

The cat was shooed away by big hands that later landed on Keith’s shoulders.

“Alright kid, make this easy on yourself and pay attention.” A mean hand gripped a handful of his hair, forcing him to look at the monitors.

The hooded figure at the controls clicked a mouse and the screens flashed on with an HD feed of a lavish bedroom with a four poster bed. A brown haired man lay hunched against a pillow, a long leg stretched out while he toyed with his phone.

“Lance!” Keith cried and struggled against his restraints. “Lance, baby! I’m here!”

Lance looked up almost like he’d heard him. Keith’s heart leapt.

_Silver?_

The bedroom door opened and a long-haired man materialized from behind it.

_You’re back!_

Lance bounced up from the bed.

Keith’s heart sank. Lance couldn’t hear him, but _Silver..._ Why did he know that name? Visions of a dusty roadside and a motorcycle in the rear-view mirror flashed in Keith’s mind. His eyes jumped to the dark haired woman to his right. The cop that had given him so many speeding tickets, she had said to him, 'Tell Lance _Silver_ says hi’. He hadn’t been able to remember the name until just then. But it was...

It was her.

“You’re that cop!” 

Her head snapped to him but her face conveyed no emotion.

“YOU KNEW! You knew this whole time!” Frantically, Keith tried to tip the chair over in case that somehow made it easier to escape, but it was bolted to the floor.

Meaty hands jerked his head back to the screen. He was instructed to 'watch’ just as the long-haired man's shirt came off.

_...but I just couldn’t stay away. Now, I believe you had a request._

“Lance, NO! Don’t go near him!” Keith screamed. He pulled so hard at the chair that his wrists nearly bled.

_Somebody likes what he sees._

_Yeah, I do._

Keith’s blood ran cold realizing what was about to happen. His protective instincts flared when Lance was thrown onto the bed and his stomach lurched violently when the man was on top of him, kissing him. 

_Fuck yes._

_God, I want you to fucking destroy me._

Keith’s insides folded further. He wanted to be sick. Lance _liked_ this guy? After everything he’d done to him? _How?_ Jaw slightly agape in horror, he watched as Lance’s was violently stripped of his clothes. What was more confusing and _infuriating_ was that Lance seemed to be into it. Keith had to dissociate from reality for a moment to pretend it wasn’t happening.

When he found awareness again, the man’s studded cock was being showcased front and center. The cruel person controlling the cameras made sure to zoom in on it. Keith grimaced and tried to look away, but his head was quickly whipped back into position.

_It’s going to be a bumpy ride..._

“Oh, _speedbumps!_ I get it now!” The one with the ponytail chortled. “Oh Lance, you nasty!”

Keith’s blood boiled at how casual she was being about it. He looked around at the others in the room. All of them. Just watching.

_Harder._

Invading Lance’s privacy like it was nothing.

_Ah- Harder..._

And the one in the hood at the controls kept taking screenshots for god knows what purpose. It was maddening.

“You’re just going to sit here and watch? You’re all sick!” Keith cried.

The pink-haired one eyed him dubiously.

“You sure protest a lot for a guy who’s rock hard.” She dropped to her knees in front of the chair and abruptly grabbed his crotch.

“Get the fuck off me!” Keith tried to writhe away while she picked at the button on his pants. But it was true. Whether he wanted it to or not, his body was reacting to the noises Lance was making. He couldn't help it, he loved that boy so much.

“Stop it, Ezor.” The cop spoke for the first time. “You’re distracting him.” 

“But Lotor said to get him off while he watches.”

“I think we can skip that part.” The officer eyed him sympathetically. 

“But-”

“Consider that an order!” She snapped.

“Fine by me. I’m not into dicks.” The woman crouching in front of him abdicated her position.

“Let’s leave him be. N and Z have got it. We don’t need to be here for this.” The cop tried to usher the pink-haired girl out of the room. 

“Hell no. I’m staying for the show.” She declared.

“Fine, _I_ don’t need to be here for this.” The cop saw herself out.

_Silver, yes!_

The man made brief eye contact with the camera while he drew blood on Lance’s back.

“I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU! I SWEAR, I WILL FUCKING-” Keith hollered and bruised his shins against the ties that held him in place.

Lotor pulled Lance up against his body and kissed him sloppily in the center of the frame. Forcing Lance’s cheek to his own, he looked directly into the camera after, smirking arrogantly at his audience and returning the challenge Keith had issued in ten-fold kind. And poor Lance, softly moaning the man’s name, was blissfully none-the-wiser to any of it. Keith’s heart broke for him.

 _Come for me, darling. Like this._

Lance’s face was twisted towards the camera and held in place there.

_Ah- Oh god._

Keith’s sneakers scraped uncomfortably on the floor as Lance’s head was thrown back. He groaned low in his throat, somewhere between distraught and aroused.

_I’m gonna- fuck- Silver. I’m coming! I’m coming! I’m com-ngh…_

_That’s right, darling. Just like that._

The man continued to stare directly at the camera while Lance lost himself in the moment. Keith’s hands made fists in their shackles. The man’s arms released the body in them then fanned out to the side as if presenting himself after a performance. He was playing with him. He was playing with the both of them and Keith had never wanted to tear someone limb from limb more.

Lance slumped to the mattress, a gasping mess. The man was on top of him again in a second, fucking him mercilessly and sneaking occasional smug glances to the camera.

Keith fought not to let it get to him. That was what he wanted. But there was one thing he couldn’t stop himself from noticing: Lance _really_ liked bottoming. And in their relationship, he had more often than not been the one to take that role. Keith wasn’t a good top and he knew it. And now he suspected that, all this time, he’d left Lance wanting. Feelings of guilt for his selfishness and a gutting sense of inadequacy started to eclipse his anger.

They changed positions. Keith twitched at how pliant and submissive and _soft_ Lance was for him, all the while that villainous man was betraying his trust. Something else was happening; Keith wasn’t sure what but his heart nearly stopped in his chest when Lance issued a barely audible ‘ _Wreck me._ ’

And wreck him he did. Keith didn’t know what or how Lotor was doing it, but Lance was going absolutely wild for it. He shook his head unable to believe it. He’d thought they’d had good sex - great sex even - but he'd never made Lance scream and tremble quite like that.

Devoid of emotions, Keith’s eyes glazed over for the remainder of the scene.

_Well?_

_Oh my god, Lotor..._

_Seriously, that dick of yours is the ninth wonder of the world!_

_Easily the best sex I ever had!_

A softly voiced ‘No…’ was the only emotional response Keith could mount.

_First AND best._

Too defeated to put up a fight, Keith’s hands hung limp in their bindings.

_Now I didn’t know I was your first._

_You were. You were a lot of firsts really._

_Darling..._

A second wind of fiery rage rose up in Keith making him want to explode. That asshole was so full of it. It was going to destroy Lance if he ever found out.

_Te ves hermoso en esta luz._

Keith’s eyes shot up. What the hell, he knew Spanish too?

“You hear that?” Ezor interjected spitefully. “He said he looks beautiful in this-”

“I know what he said!” Keith barked.

_Estoy emocionado por nuestra cita._

_Tendré más para compartir con ustedes sobre eso pronto._

They went on and on, a full conversation in perfect Spanish. It was the last straw. Tears leaking from his eyes and held up by the restraints alone, Keith crumbled in the chair. All those hours he’d spend studying… Spanish was supposed to be their thing.

_Alright, I have to get back to work. But Lance… Never forget how important you are to me._

“SHUT UP, YOU CREEP!” Keith rattled his chains. “Lance, don’t listen to him!” He sobbed miserably.

_You’re important to me too._

Keith wanted to scream until his lungs burst. Lance was being tricked and he was too sweet and desperate to love to know better. And Keith knew it was all his fault. He’d driven Lance right back into the arms of this monster.

_Hey, Lotor._

Oh no. Keith recognized the look on Lance’s face. That softness, that vulnerability. He didn’t just like this guy, Lance was in danger of loving him.

_I want you to know that I-_

“Don’t say it!” Keith's voice cracked.

_Yes?_

He braced for it.

_Nothing. I’ll see you later._

Keith nearly passed out with relief. It was the only part of the entire ordeal that left him with any semblance of hope. 

As abruptly as they’d turned on, the screens went black. Keith waited, hearing his ragged breath echo in the darkness. With an inquisitive meow, his feline friend from before landed back in his lap. Keith sneezed again and miserably lolled his head to the side, deciding in that moment that he hated cats.

 

Lotor - marginally disheveled and flush-faced - arrived back in the surveillance room. Keith lifted his tear-streaked face to seethe at him. If he hadn't been strapped to his seat he'd have murdered him with his bare hands.

“Looks like we got a rise out of him after all.” The man waxed victorious.

 _Oh, he cried and screamed. The little freak got hard too._ A robotic voice rattled from the hooded figure’s phone speaker. 

“Narti, take Cova home.”

The hooded one scooped up the cat from Keith’s lap and left.

It was only Lotor, Keith, and his two remaining generals in the room.

“You're just playing with him. You don't really care about him. You wouldn't use him like that if you did!” Keith’s voice trembled with anger.

“That's where you're wrong.” Lotor opened a drawer beneath the desk housing the control center and took out a gun. “I'll admit there’s a spiteful pleasure in keeping him out of your hands, but mark my words, Kogane brat…” He pushed Keith's chin up with the end of his Glock. “I do indeed love your Lance. And, I’ll remind you, he was _mine_ long before he was ever yours. And this time I intend to keep him.” He smacked Keith’s face away with the pistol. “First and best, Keithy boy.” Lotor tilted his head pompously. “He's forgotten all about you.”

“You think you’ve won, huh?” Keith scoffed. “Keep dreaming because he doesn't love you. He'll _never_ love you!” Dark eyes shone defiant. “I know Lance. He falls fast. If he was going to love you, he’d have said it by now! All you’ve shown me is that you're destined to lose!”

“Zethrid.”

She socked him across the face. Keith saw stars.

“Let me make something abundantly clear, you inconsequential brat...” The end of the gun was jammed into Keith’s mouth. The man cocked it with danger in his eyes while Keith struggled not to gag. “The only reason you’re still breathing is because I vowed not to lay a finger on you. But don’t think for a second I’m not above having someone else see that you meet a fitting, accidental end.”

He pulled the trigger. 

Keith’s eyes went wide with the click of the cartridge, but the gun didn't go off.

“Guess it’s your lucky day.” The man patronized.

The shaft of the pistol was pulled from Keith's mouth while he was still in shock, trails of saliva attached to it.

“Now, here's why you're going to keep quiet and not interfere in our relationship.” 

“I will fight you until my last breath. I don't care what you do to me!” Keith spat.

“Oh, I'm not going to touch you. Weren’t you listening?” Lotor retrieved Keith’s iPhone from the edge of the desk. “But who's this?” He thrust the phone in front of Keith's eyes. The lock screen lit up with a picture of a chubby, brown dog.

“Don’t you fucking dare touch Red.” Keith growled, low and severe.

“Don’t you fucking dare make me.”

The lock screen was clicked off.

“Lance loves that dog as much as I do!”

“And you'd hate to see him cry, wouldn't you? Because who would be there to comfort him? You?” The man snorted. “And I won’t stop there. Stay away from Lance or everyone you hold dear will start dropping like flies. You're in the big leagues now Keithy boy.” Lotor swung the gun around his finger, moving closer as he taunted. “And you are so _woefully_ unprepared.” 

Keith spat in Lotor's face.

It was wiped away by an unamused, gloved hand. 

“Your precious Lance will pay for that later.”

“Don’t you hurt him! Don’t you dare!” Keith fought with all his might against his confines.

“Zethrid.” Lotor nodded. “Put him to sleep.” 

“NO- Lance- ngh-”

Keith fought until he went limp in Zethrid’s arms.

“You’re not really going to hurt Lance, are you?” Ezor’s face was full of concern.

“Of course not!” Lotor was offended at the very notion. “But he doesn’t know that.” He grinned deviously over the limp body in the chair.

“Uh, what exactly are we supposed to do with him now?” Acxa peered in from the door, not used to having a _live_ body on their hands.

“Dump him somewhere familiar.” Lotor ordered callously and wiped the last traces of saliva from his cheek. “Somewhere that sends a message.”

“I know just the spot.” Zethrid flashed cunning teeth.

 

\-----

 

Keith regained consciousness face-down on damp grass and cold earth. The sky had long-since grown dark. Stirring where he lay, body stiff and shivery, his vision drifted in and out of focus until finally he found himself looking at... a jungle gym? Coughing and clutching his throat, he pulled himself onto his hands and knees and, when the coughing fit subsided, he ascertained that he was in a park. 

Not just any park.

 _The_ park. 

Keith’s skin prickled. They’d left him and his backpack lying not fifteen feet from the spot where a very intoxicated Lance had kissed him for the first time. And there wasn’t a doubt in Keith’s mind that the placement had been intentional. Collapsing to the ground again, he stared at the cloudy, starless sky above in horror and disbelief. Just how long had that creep been watching them?

He lay on the ground lifeless and empty-eyed as a corpse for some time, mind a mix of wordless thoughts and turbulent emotions. How was he supposed to help Lance now? Call the police? There’d been a cop in the room with them! And what evidence could he possibly hope to mount against a Galra gang leader. Shiro had been right. He should have known better than to mess with the Galra. He should never have sought that man, that _monster_ , out.

Keith admitted it…

He’d lost. 

He’d lost everything. 

Lance, the love of his life…

His friends, who weren’t even speaking to him... 

A future he’d never even known to dream of until Lance had shown it to him...

And above all…

Hope.

Lying on the damp earth, Keith half-heartedly wished Lotor’s gun had been loaded.

With the last of his strength, he stuffed it all away, too emotionally overwrought to be able to see a path forward. He forced himself upright and lifted his backpack to begin the trek home, trusting his feet and not his brain to get him there. In a numbed haze, Keith stumbled along the dimly-lit streets, wrists raw and burning from the restraints.

His thoughts shifted to his sweet, sweet boyfriend. Lance, the trusting angel that he was... How he’d jumped up to greet that monster, how he hadn’t a clue that a roomful of people had been watching his most private moments, how he’d been a breath away from declaring love for that abominable man. Keith shut his eyes, freeing a steady stream of tears down his cheek. He almost didn’t want Lance to find out. The last thing he deserved was more heartbreak.

Slow with his keys in the lock, Keith trudged into his apartment and lifelessly shut the door. He slumped against it, at the end of his rope and ready to give up. But then something caught his attention. Or rather, the lack of something.

No one had come to greet him at the door.

“Red?” Keith’s voice shook. 

_Crickets._

“RED!” 

He threw on the lights and began searching. She wasn’t in her doggie bed. She wasn’t on the couch. Nor in the corner with all her toys. 

Growing frantic, Keith barreled into the bedroom to check under the desk where she sometimes liked to hide. But she wasn’t there either.

Desperately he searched under the bed even though she was too big to fit underneath it.

On his hands and knees on the floor, Keith was about to lose his goddamn mind when finally, he heard the flapping of ears and the whine of a yawn above him. He snapped upright onto his knees to find his disobedient pooch sleeping, large as life, in the middle of the bed, a puddle of drool darkening one of his pillowcases.

“Red! Oh, thank god.” Keith threw himself on top of her, not even mad that she was on the bed when she wasn’t supposed to be. “You’re okay.” He sobbed into her fur, hugging her tight.

The sleepy pup grumbled at the disruption.

 

Keith was quick to act. He hastily stuffed some clothes into an overnight bag, grabbed an old hunting knife from the back of his closet, and hightailed it over to the one place he knew was safe, the one place he still had left, with Red in-tow. 

Frantically, he pounded at the townhouse door.

“Shiro! Shiro, wake up!”

“Keith, what-” The tired man answered the door. Allura in her nightgown peered at the commotion from the top of the stairs. 

“I need to sleep on your couch tonight.” Keith blurted out fast and with no further explanation. “Hi Allura.” He added awkwardly.

Mystified but picking up on Keith’s stricken demeanor, Shiro let him and the dog inside. Allura questioned him with concerned eyes to which Shiro shrugged like he didn’t know either.

 

\---

 

“Are you ready for this?” 

The hour was late. Lotor set his hands on Lance’s shoulders outside an upscale tattoo parlor. 

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” Lance gulped, a bit squeamish about needles.

“Don’t be nervous. I’ll be right there with you the whole time.” Lotor squeezed his fingers.

Lance hesitated in following the tug of his hand. “Hey, is this our date?” 

“No, darling. This is to make you truly one of us. A full member of the Galra. It is an honor not bestowed upon many.”

Lance smiled at that. Lotor had a way of making him feel so _special._ Chosen, really.

“Lotor…” Lance turned to face him. “I’m going all in on you. That’s what this tattoo is gonna mean to me.”

A softness warmed Lotor’s features. He stepped closer and took Lance by the hands.

“Then perhaps I ought to get one too. Because I’ve been all in on you for a long time. And Lance...” His fingers brushed a freckled cheek. “I would do _anything_ to protect our happiness. My Garrison boy, my partner, my love…” Lance’s knuckles were lifted to his lips. “I ask you again, are you ready?”

Lance beamed up at him.

“Let’s do this.”

Hand-in-hand and stronger than ever, they pair walked inside.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, you’ve made it through the 'kidnapping' and 'forced voyeurism' tags. That was a rough one. I’m sorry, folks; Lotor wins this round. But don’t be too discouraged. Next chapter is a game changer. _Nothing_ will be the same. Also, I’m calling it now - Keith has suffered enough!
> 
>  **> > Please tell me exactly when you realized Keith was watching <<**  
> This is very important feedback to me as this chapter was rather challenging to write.
> 
> How do I explain Lotor? He will do anything to protect his relationship with Lance ...including using Lance to that end. His alignment is Chaotic Lance.
> 
> Callbacks from the rest of this series abound! Did you catch them all? I counted at least 7.
> 
> PrEP, the drug Shiro gave Keith, is a real thing! Pre-exposure Prophylaxis, also known as Truvata. It prevents HIV infection and is recommended for, well anyone who wants to protect themselves really, but specifically, gay men with multiple partners. More information [here](https://www.cdc.gov/hiv/basics/prep.html).
> 
>    
> Next Chapter: **The Crime** (Thanks to everyone who voted in the [poll](https://twitter.com/enjayas_writes/status/1072727660437024768)! I can’t believe I forgot to make Acxa an option! Whoops…)
> 
> P.S. For Christmas I will be responding to all your comments on the last 3 chapters or at least trying to! <3 <3


	15. The Crime: Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feelings and attractions are forced to be confronted by unlikely sources. Lance gets something he’s been waiting for since he was seventeen.
> 
> In this chapter:  
> \- Somebody comes out  
> \- Somebody caves in  
> \- Somebody contemplates murder
> 
> This and a whole bunch of other stuff in part one of two of _The Crime._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **It’s been a minute, so as a refresher:**  
>  Last chapter, Lotor kidnapped Keith and made him watch as he made love to Lance. Keith ran to Shiro’s house for safety after while Lotor celebrated by taking Lance to the tattoo parlor.
> 
> **Other important thing:**  
>  Okay, fam. This chapter and the next one are **the big scary sheith chapters**. For those of you who are ship sensitive, Shiro and Keith going to be interacting/internal monologuing about each other, though maybe not always in the way you might fear. Parts of it might be frustrating, it might get you riled up, and you will feel the most distance between Keith and Lance yet. BUT! There are some things that _need_ to be addressed, some things that _need_ to happen before Keith can move forward. Anything that occurs is so he can work through his feelings and ultimately get back with Lance. I'm going to ask that you remember that.
> 
> Put simply, _Shut up and trust me!_
> 
> If you still have concerns, feel free to message me.  
> Twitter: [enjayas_writes](https://twitter.com/enjayas_writes)  
> Tumblr: [enjayas](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/enjayas)

  


In the parking lot of an abandoned warehouse, Acxa waited in her vehicle. Hidden behind tinted windows and with steaming coffee as her only companion, her alert eyes watched through the windshield. It was early - just after sunrise - well before Lotor or any of the other generals would be up. A manilla envelope occupying the passenger seat at her side contained information. 

Information ready to be handed off to Zarkon’s informant.

The plan was simple: Hand over everything necessary for their enemy’s operatives to make a clean hit. It wasn’t an option to eliminate the Garrison boy herself, but that didn’t mean somebody else couldn’t do it for her. And Zarkon was known to be brash, tactless even, and especially spiteful when it came to his son. No one would suspect it had been an inside job.

They’d talked terms. They could kill him immediately or take him hostage; she didn’t care which. Her only criteria was that he be gone for good. If Zarkon used him as a bargaining chip, well... That was something they would just have to deal with. But Lotor knew as well as she did that Zarkon didn’t negotiate. The Garrison Boy would end up dead either way.

A dark car without license plates pulled up across the way and flashed its lights. 

She ran through the plan again in her head, checking it was airtight, before blinking her brights back.

A double flash of the opposing vehicle's lights followed by a rev of the engine: The signal for the handoff to take place. 

And take place it would, once she countered with a signal of her own.

But foot poised over the pedal and fingers dusting the lever that controlled the lights, Acxa hesitated. She glanced at the envelope beside her, unease rising in her usually collected demeanor.

It was treason, mutiny even. And she knew what happened to traitors. 

And yet, that wasn’t what was stopping her.

Igniting the car’s engine, she hit the accelerator and peeled out, gritting her teeth because as much as she wanted the Garrison boy gone, she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t betray Lotor like that.

There had to be another way.

 

\-----

 

The morning after showing up at their condo unannounced, after being terrorized by Lotor, a shell-shocked Keith joined Allura and Shiro at the breakfast table in the couple’s dining room. Red sat obediently at his side salivating and hopefully sniffing the bacon and eggs on the table. Keith’s hand moved lightly, automatically over her brown head, thumb tickling under her ears. There was something comforting about that familiar gesture. It was the only thing that felt normal.

Nothing was normal anymore.

The bright sunlight streaming through the windows and Allura’s pleasant smile while she poured tea gave the occasion a false sense of cheeriness as they all ignored the elephant in the room. 

Keith. Keith was that elephant. 

And he was painfully aware of it.

Hunched over his plate, he kept his unfocused gaze low and within a safe radius of his plate, not yet willing to meet anyone’s eye. It was already awkward enough and he hadn’t slept well enough to fake pleasantries. 

“Keith, would you mind passing the pepper?” Allura tried to coax him out of his shell.

He looked up only briefly then leaned across the table with the shaker she’d asked for. The sleeve of his jacket pulled up enough to reveal the ligature marks on his wrists.

Shiro saw it and nearly choked on his eggs. 

Shrinking back into his chair, Keith quickly tugged his sleeve down again.

Allura caught Shiro’s eye. She’d seen it too.

“I’d better make more tea,” Allura announced politely then disappeared to the kitchen with the pot to give Shiro and their guest space to talk. 

“So you want to tell me what made you run over here in a panic last night?” Shiro broached the topic rather casually while buttering a slice of toast.

“No,” Keith said flatly and poked his eggs. 

“Keith, it’s not like you to-”

“It was nothing, okay? Don’t worry about it.” He stuffed away a mouthful of scrambled eggs so he didn’t have to talk. He’d already decided he wasn’t going to tell Shiro what had happened. What was the point? He couldn’t help Lance now. Neither of them could. If he so much as tried to contact him, Lotor would come after them. First Red, then Shiro... And Pidge and Hunk and Allura... It would never end. Even if there was a sliver of a chance it was all a bluff, Keith wasn't about to gamble with his friend's lives to find out.

It was over. 

Lotor had won.

Shiro fretted while the other man kept chewing.

“Is this about Lance?” He probed gently.

“No.” Keith managed to tell a convincing lie.

“Keith, I know something happened.”

The other man at the table stayed mum.

“Did someone hurt you? Or maybe take something too far?” Shiro asked, eyeing the marks on his wrists again.

Keith pulled his arm away as Shiro reached for it and held it protectively to his chest. It stung where it was still raw from the restraints.

“I know you’re acting out right now,” Shiro continued kindly. “But there are safe ways to practice bondage and you might want to think about-”

“Oh my god! Would you shut up please!” Keith slammed his hands on the table.

Allura’s head snapped to them from the kitchen. She quickly pretended not to have overheard.

“Sorry…” Keith realized he was being rude, but a lecture from Shiro that was _way_ off-base was the last thing he needed. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come over here.” Sending his utensils clattering to the plate, he began to clamber out of his seat.

“Keith, no.” A hand lightly on his arm, Shiro urged him back into it. “You can always come here.” He said, recalling how shaken Keith had appeared the night before. The last thing he wanted was for Keith to have to deal with whatever he was going through on his own.

Keith uncomfortably settled into the chair again.

“Look, something happened, but…” He pressed his lips together, reconsidering. Shiro was the most trustworthy person he knew. “No, I can’t.” He shook his head. “I can’t tell you about it. Sorry.” He went back to his breakfast.

“Okay.” The other man nodded with understanding. “I’m always here if you need it.” 

“I know. Thank you.” He caught Shiro’s eye with sincerity in his own. “I’m really glad I had somewhere to go last night.”

A heavy hand landed on his shoulder and gave him a squeeze. It almost cajoled a smile out of Keith.

“Shiro, can you help me a minute?” Allura called from the kitchen.

Shiro leapt up to assist in reaching the nice tea cups from the top shelf.

Keith watched them in the kitchen. They spoke in low voices that he couldn’t quite make out, but by the light-heartedness of their tone it didn’t seem like they were talking about him. He watched them snicker and flirt by the sink while a tea tray was assembled. 

“Stop,” Allura tittered, knocking him with her hip. Shiro’s arm came around her as he planted a lingering kiss on the top of her head. She leaned into him, tilting her head onto his shoulder.

Keith sighed. He remembered what it was like to have sweet moments like that. To be the picture of a happy couple. His friends’ domesticity left him aching for his other half. 

He pretended not to have been paying them any mind when they returned to the table.

“Here we are, a fresh pot.” Allura set down the tray and topped up their cups, smiling sweetly at Keith. He was too embarrassed to properly thank her.

Allura cleared her throat after she sat back down. “You know, Keith, I’m meeting Pidge and Maria for lunch later this afternoon. Why don’t you join us?”

“Oh, I- I don’t know.” Keith was immediately uncomfortable. “It sounds like a girls thing and I wouldn't want to be-”

“Nonsense. We’d love to have you.”

Keith’s panicked eyes looked to Shiro for help.

“I think it be good for you to see your friends.” He answered in direct contrast to what Keith was wordlessly asking him to do. 

Keith wore betrayal on his face.

“I can’t bring Red to a restaurant.” He was certain that excuse would work, and after Lotor’s threat, Keith wasn’t letting his dog out of his sight again.

“She can hang out here with me. I’ll keep an eye on her,” Shiro offered and leaned down to pat her side.

“Ah- But, I-” Keith sighed in his throat at the sly smile Shiro was giving him. He was not getting out of this one. “Fine.” He gave in. 

 

 

“Pidge, Maria, hello!” Allura hugged the two girls in front of a restaurant they met up at from time to time to catch up and bitch about work.

Keith slowly inched onto the edge of the group as they finished their greetings.

“Oh, you brought… Keith.” Pidge reset her glasses with an air of let down. “When you said you were bringing a friend, I was half-hoping you’d managed to drag Lance out of the hole he’s been hiding in.”

“Sorry…” Keith apologized for being a disappointment and wished it had been Lance too.

“Ah, I mean, it’s good to see you too.” Pidge quickly backpedaled. 

Keith grunted an unconvinced acknowledgement.

“Hey. I mean it.” Pidge’s voice softened. “I’ve missed my favorite emo kid.” She knocked him on the shoulder.

Keith managed a half smile. “Missed you too, squirt.” He elbowed her back.

“Hey, watch it. You’re not at squirt-status yet.” She warned playfully.

“What? Lance is but not me?” Keith pretended to be more offended than he was. It was the perfect mask for the heartfelt relief and damn-near delight he was experiencing at the normalcy their banter brought. 

“Even he’s pushing it.” Pidge stuck out her tongue and held the door open for him.  
With the closest thing he’d worn to a smile all day, Keith headed inside. Allura and Maria exchanged pleased smiles as they followed.

 

The interior of the restaurant was cozy and smelled like freshly-baked pie and other delicious concoctions. Not having eaten much at breakfast, Keith’s stomach rumbled at the scents coming from the kitchen while they got settled at a table by a set of large windows. Keith sat next to Allura and across from Pidge, who kept kicking him under the table while their shoes battled for real estate. Keith’s eyes narrowed; Her’s flared in return.

A laugh didn’t quite make it out of his chest. He’d missed Pidge. That little Gremlin was second only to Lance in teasing him out of a stubborn mood.

They ordered and Keith mostly just listened while the girls talked. Allura was leaving for London to visit her parents in a few days. Pidge and Maria excitedly discussed the things she could bring back for them then had Allura repeat a variety of odd British phrases. They cackled while trying to imitate her accent to each other every time. 

Keith, who flustered on the spot, was convinced to try one just after the food arrived.

“Wait, what was it?”

Allura whispered it to him again.

“I’m- I’m knackered?” His face twisted, unsure.

The table erupted in laughter. He’d completely butchered it, but it got a chuckle out of him too.

Maria and Pidge went back to dominating the conversation, and Keith took the opportunity to check in with Shiro. He was growing increasingly worried about having left Red alone.

K: Is she okay? You’re watching her right?

Shiro sent back a goofy selfie from the couch in which he was pointing at Red sleeping in the background, right in the middle of the living room rug. Keith heaved with relief then smiled. She looked comfortable.

K: Don’t let her out of your sight.

“No luck reaching Lance then?”

The shift in conversation as they dug in pricked up Keith’s ears.

Pidge lost all trace of her previously goofy demeanor and shook her head over an overstuffed BLT. “He barely responds to texts anymore. And if he does, it takes _days_ and his replies are short at best. You?”

“I’ve gotten him on the phone a few times,” Allura replied. “He always seems happy to talk but gets cagey the second I ask anything specific. We video chatted a few times, and I can’t tell exactly where he’s staying, but it seemed… up high?”

“Up high?” Maria furrowed her brow.

“It’s a hotel. In downtown.” Keith filled in the gap for them.

Three pairs of shocked eyes were on him.

“He’s staying with his-” Keith cleared his throat which had gone dry. “With his new boyfriend. He owns the place. I guess the guy is loaded or something.”

“The dude with the McLaren?” A wide-eyed Pidge asked.

“Uh… Yeah, probably,” Keith answered. He hadn’t exactly caught the make of the car the long-haired man had sped off in but it sounded about right.

Pidge suddenly seemed far less concerned.

“Ah, well, this is par for the course for Lance, then,” she surmised and took a huge bite out of her sandwich. “New boyfriend and all. No wonder he’s so distracted,” she said with her mouth full.

Allura hummed thoughtfully in apparent agreement. Keith looked between them without a clue what they were talking about.

“He does this with every new relationship,” Pidge informed him. “He kinda fell off the map when he started dating you too.”

“He did?” Keith was horrified to have anything in common with that man.

“Yeah, Lance is just a sap like that,” Pidge maintained. “Although, it was less noticeable with you because you were already in our friend group.” It was only then that she noticed the hurt on her friend’s face. “Shit, Keith... I didn’t mean to bring him up in front of you.”

“No, it’s fine!” Keith blurted out. He _wanted_ to talk about Lance. He _wanted_ him on their radars. “I’m glad you guys are trying to reach him.” Lord knew he couldn’t anymore. “I’m glad you haven’t forgotten about him.”

”Keith, we could never forget about Lance.” Allura lightly touched his hand.

“Right?” Maria added.

“I miss that idiot.” Pidge smiled a little sadly.

“Me too,” Keith chuckled softly. 

“I’m guessing you’ve had no luck getting in touch with him either then?” Pidge asked him.

Keith huffed a dry laugh. He hadn’t even tried. After never having gotten a reply, he hadn’t texted Lance since wishing him a Merry Christmas. His stomach turned, realizing that was almost three months ago. 

“No, I don’t think he wants to hear from me right now. But promise me you’ll all keep trying? Please?” He looked between the three women at the table. “He needs as many people looking out for him as he can get. And I can’t- It can’t be me anymore.” His shoulders sagged that he couldn’t explain why. “Maybe you guys can even help him see the light and get him away from that asshole he’s living with.”

Maria and Pidge exchanged glances and seemed put-off by the last statement.

“What?” Keith didn’t understand what was the problem.

“Listen,” Pidge started. “I want to see Lance back with you as much as the next guy, and I’m not saying I won’t keep an eye on him, but I’m not looking to sabotage anybody’s relationship. Like, I know this guy is ex-Galra and all, but I dunno, it’s not like we’ve ever met him.”

“Yeah, maybe he’s nice.” Maria’s optimism was crushing.

“Right. It’s not like I’ve met him either. I’m sure he’s just wonderful.” Keith stared into the table, remembering the taste of revolver.

“Hey, Keith. Come on, I didn’t mean-”

He waved off Pidge’s apology. Of course they didn’t understand. They hadn’t seen the way that sociopath treated him... Faking it for show, putting him on display in front of an audience, using him to get what he wanted. He was going to have to get used to that.

Allura put her hand on Keith’s shoulder with a look that left him wondering just how much Shiro had told her about Lance’s history with the Galra.

 

\-----

 

A long-haired man entered a small, family-owned shop whose business he'd been frequenting for years, though rarely in-person. Hidden behind shades and a scarf up to his cheekbones, he drew eyes the moment he was in the door. 

Unconcerned with and hardly remembering the events of the night before, he loosened his scarf and waited patiently in line behind the clientele that had arrived before him.

He'd crept out of bed without waking the man sleeping next to him that morning. Usually they woke up together or he'd wait, working on his laptop in bed until his partner awoke too.

But that morning there was something he wanted to do first. A certain _mission,_ of sorts. 

It was rare for him to be running an errand. Usually he had people to handle that sort of thing for him, but when it mattered - and this time it mattered - he'd do it himself.

"Next."

He stepped to the counter.

“I’m sorry, but are you… Are you Mister LSD?” The braver of the two of the cashier girls asked shyly while she helped him.

“I get that a lot.” The man smiled kindly. 

The young woman flustered and apologized for the confusion.

He paid for his items, left a generous tip and a signature that left no doubt of his identity.

Excited whispers - _That WAS him!_ \- could be heard coming from the store as he left. Lotor was oblivious to them, his attention wholly focused on the garment bag in hand. 

It was perfect. Lance was going to love it.

 

\----

 

While Allura and Keith were at lunch, Shiro was relaxing with his new friend Red in the living room. The dishes from the morning were done and with his feet up, he lounged on the couch enjoying a rare can of soda and being lazy for a change.

His phone buzzed with a text. His face lit up when he saw it was from Matt.

M: hey big boy

Shiro’s grin broadened as he typed a reply. 

S: Hey nerd.

M: how you doing?

S: Eh. Hanging in there. 

M: uh oh... fresh drama?

S: Keith came over last night scared out of his wits. He won’t tell me why.  
S: Something’s going on with him. I just can’t figure out what.

M: first the Lance meltdown, now him too, huh?

S: They’re both a mess right now.  
S: God, Matt... I know it’s my fault but I don’t know how to fix it.

M: just be there for him if he needs you.

S: What about Lance though?  
S: He won’t even look at me.

M: sounds familiar...  
M: how is Allura?

S: She’s good.  
S: You gonna come visit this summer like we talked about? When we’re both here?

M: maybe… it’s always a little weird when I’m there. your house is not my house, ya know?

S: It could be your house too.

M: i’m sorry, T. Allura and i just aren’t there yet.

Thinking it to be the end of the conversation, Shiro set his phone on the coffee table with a sigh and snagged another sip of soda while he was at it. 

His phone buzzed again.

M: so you and Kogane banging yet or what?

Shiro sprayed coke across the room.

S: Jesus Matt!  
S: Stop.

M: you’re the one that said he came over last night  
M: and didn’t it almost happened the other week too? on the couch or whatever?

S: I said ALMOST. And it was just an almost kiss not…

M: not what you both totally wanted it to be?

S: Matt I swear to god…

M: they’ve been broken up for what 5 months already? he’s single. you’re available. what’s the hold up?

S: ...  
S: I think I’ve already wrecked enough relationships. Not looking to up my tally.

M: well technically you’ve already wrecked this one so…

S: Watch it, Holt.

M: just playing devil’s advocate 0:)

Shiro rolled his eyes at the screen even though a terrible part of his brain had already had the same thought.

S: Even if I did want to go there, he’s too hot and cold. One minute he’s pulling me on top of him and the next it’s like he can’t stand to be in the same room as me. And I can never tell which mood he’s in.

M: yikes. that’s gotta be hell.

S: Yeah, it kinda is!

The words _‘led on’_ had crossed Shiro’s mind a time or two.

S: Anyways, it’s probably best that we don’t. I’m his boss now too.  
S: And it would only complicate things with Lance.

M: …?

S: …?  
S: what?

M: I’m waiting for the ‘but’

S: ur the butt

M: *kissy face*

That garnered a crooked smile even if it was fleeting.

S: Jeez, Matt… If he throws himself at me again, I don’t know what I’m gonna do.  
S: It’s one thing when he’s too drunk to know what he’s doing...  
S: I don’t want to be like this.

M: Like what?

S: I don’t know… A bad person?

M: Takashi...  
M: KISS THE DAMN BOY ALREADY

Shiro threw his phone to the other end of the couch and pulled an embroidered throw pillow over his face. Matt was _not_ helping.

 

\-----

 

Lance was still sleeping when Lotor excitedly burst into the bedroom, a suit bag in hand. The exuberant man dove onto the bed to wake his Garrison Boy with a kiss.

“Good morning to you too.” Wiping the sleep from his eye, Lance lazily returned his grin.

“It’s the afternoon. Now get out of bed and try this on.”

“What? Why?” Lance awkwardly took the bag that was foisted upon him.

“There’s a charity Gala Wednesday night.” Lotor drew the curtains bathing the room in daylight then bounded back to the mattress. “And you’re going to be my date.”

“A date? Really?” Lance perked up instantly.

“As promised.” Lotor beamed. “Everyone will see you. Everyone will see _us._ ”

Lance’s eyes sparkled. He had to check he wasn’t still dreaming; he almost couldn’t believe it. It was happening. At long last, him and Silver, they were finally going to get out of that wretched back room, er, that _hotel suite_ , and go on a real, honest-to-god _date_. The lovesick seventeen year-old kid in him was weeping.

Twenty-five year-old Lance’s eyes dampened too.

“Darling...” Lotor’s hand roamed up the outside of a thigh covered by only a sheet.

Lance winced and wriggled away as he neared the top.

“How is it? Tender?” Lotor inquired of his freshly acquired ink. 

“A little,” Lance replied, favoring his left hip. His skin felt tight and was sticky with the ointment that had to be applied often. Never in his wildest dreams had Lance thought he’d get a tattoo, much less one _on his ass._ That was something he was keeping from his mother until one or both of them were in their graves. She would pitch a fit if she knew and probably try to beat the ink out of his hide.

“Mine too,” Lotor admitted. “It won’t be comfortable to sleep on our sides for a while, but you’re worth the pain.” Lips smacked against the Garrison boy’s cheek.

“So a gala…” Lance couldn’t hide his grin as he relaxed against the pillows, his dreamy eyes fixed on the man with a matching tattoo next to him. Lotor was propped up on an elbow, his hair pouring down over his shoulder like a frozen waterfall. Lance got lost in the gentle, ice-blue eyes that gazed down at him. 

“A _charity_ gala. This Wednesday.” 

Lance was glad he’d repeated it. Still unable to believe it was true, he hadn’t properly absorbed the details the first time.

“Charity?” He questioned.

“It means…” Lotor shifted onto the pillows to be eye-level with him. “A lot of people will be paying a lot of money to be there.”

“People like you?”

“No, darling.” He laughed kindly. “I get in for the price of a speech as a guest of honor and the proceeds are going to Sincline General.”

That made Lance feel a little better. Even though he knew he could afford it, he didn’t want Lotor spending _more_ money on him. Their financial imbalance wasn’t something he liked to think about.

“Who the hell goes to a charity gala on a Wednesday night anyway?” He snorted, putting money out of mind.

“Politicians.” Lotor’s eyes rolled back into his head. “But it’s for a good cause, and darling…” Lotor took him by the hand. “This is the perfect opportunity to make our debut. There’s no one else I’d rather have at my side.”

Lance positively swooned.

 

 

Minutes later, in a newly acquired bespoke tux, Lance skidded into the main part of the suite on socked feet. A pair of crooked, oversized Tom Cruise sunglasses and a cocky sideways grin completed the look. Zethrid and Narti boredly looked up from the couch at the latest antics that were all too commonplace of late before they went back to what they were doing.

“Whoa, Lancey Lance! Lookin’ sharp!” Ezor whooped. He spun around to _pew-pew_ her as the finger guns came out. Happy for any excuse to stop working, she cast aside the documents she was proofreading and got up to make a fuss of him.

In the midst of the ruckus, Acxa stepped into the hotel suite, a dress in each arm.

“Lotor, which do you think is going to go best with your-” She stopped. 

Lance, in a tuxedo with Lotor and Ezor checking the fit at his side, looked at her from across the room.

“Acxa…” Lotor appeared flustered, like he’d forgotten to do something. “I’m actually going to take Lance to this one.”

‘Oh...’ Her mouth moved but no sound came out. The dresses in her arms sagged at her sides. She visibly began to shake with rage. 

“Uh oh… She’s gonna blow,” Ezor whispered.

But the first-in-command righted herself. Her lips pursed, she stood tall. “Do you really think that’s wise? You aren’t exactly _out_ publicly.”

Lance and Ezor looked to Lotor. The silver-haired man did indeed look worried. 

Lance cocked his head. Had Lotor really gotten so carried away that he hadn’t thought of that?

“And I’ll remind you,” Acxa continued. “That many of your most generous backers are... rather conservative.”

A feeling similar to the one he got when his dad made passive aggressive comments about Keith being a phase gripped Lance’s insides.

Excitement flagged like a wet leaf in the wind.

“Hey, it’s okay. I don’t have to go,” he offered. “I get not being out.”

“No,” Lotor held up his hand. “If my affections for another man incline the less-wordly to pull their donations, then I don’t want their money anyways.” 

“I thought you liked taking money from assholes,” Acxa protested. “Wasn’t that the whole point of this?”

“We can find another way to get them to part with their precious millions. It’s high-time I made a statement, and this is… Yes...” Touching his fingertips together, Lotor began to pace. Thinking. _Plotting._ “This just might be the perfect way to do it.” Confidence gradually returned to his features. “The press would love it; my father would _loathe_ it- I can't think of a reason not to!”

“Whoa, whoa, wait a second…” Lance needed a moment to catch up. “You’re going to _come out_ for me?” Keith hadn’t even liked dancing with him in a club unless it was an expressly gay venue. Lotor was going to… Publically? In front of the media? Holy shit…

Lotor turned to him with love and pride in his eyes.

“I cannot think of a better way to reveal myself to the world, on a night when I’m being honored, than by arriving with another fabulous gay man on my arm.”

The joy vanished from Lance’s face. A pit formed in his stomach.

“Um, about that...” He twiddled his fingers nervously, feeling rather put on the spot. But he had to be truthful. He knew too well the damage white lies and omissions could do to a relationship. “I’m not- I’m not gay. I’m... bi.” He barely had breath left for the last and most important word.

“Well, then with a fabulous bisexual man on my arm.” Lotor didn’t miss a beat.

“Really?” Lance’s face lit up. “That doesn’t… bother you? Like, I’ve been with women. _A lot_ of women. Well, not a lot…” Nervousness made him glib, but he also didn’t want to downplay it. “Some. An- An average number. And there were some men in there too, but primarily... women.” Fearfully, he looked up at Lotor.

“Why would it bother me when I’m so completely, indelibly enthralled...” Pale knuckles graced the curve of the Garrison boy’s cheek. “...with _you._ ”

Lance swooned for the second time that day at how it wasn’t even an issue. He wished his ex could have been there so he could rub it in his face, for him to see how it should have been done. Lotor’s hand came around the back of his head. The pair began leaning in.

Acxa cleared her throat, reminding them that they weren’t alone. “Fine. But I don’t have the bandwidth to manage the press. You’re on your own.” She practically sneered. “I guess I won’t be needing these.” She huffed at her garments.

“Why don’t you come too?” Lance suggested. “You _and_ Ezor. We’ll be a couple of guys and you’ll be a couple of gals. It might take the pressure off Lotor if we aren’t the only couple there that stands out.”

“Lance, that’s an excellent idea!” Lotor beamed proudly at his Garrison boy.

“Oh, a Gala. That sure sounds nice.” Ezor strained through a smile while she marched to Lance’s side. _“Lance, what the hell are you doing?”_ She snapped under her breath.

_“Getting you a date with her. Now shut up and roll with it!”_ Lance harshed back.

Ezor gulped and met the eyes of her rather unimpressed first-in-command.

“Do you even have a dress?” Acxa griped.

“Y-Yeah. I can find something.”

“Whatever. Just don’t be late.” She shut the door a shade below ‘slam’ on her way out.

“Oh my god!” Ezor turned back to Lance holding her cheeks and going red in the face. “Is this really happening? Are we going on a double-date?”

“I think we are.” Lance grinned back at her. The pair grasped hands and excitedly jumped up and down until Zethrid yelled at them from the couch to shut it.

 

\-----

 

After saying goodbye to Maria and Pidge and promising to bring back lots of chocolate and other goodies from London, Keith and Allura made their way back to where they’d parked the jeep. A weighty silence formed between them. It had Keith back on the edge of uncomfortable where he’d been living earlier that morning.

They climbed into the jeep and fastened their seatbelts under the same tension.

“Keith…” Keys already in the slot, Allura paused before starting the car. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

The hairs on the back of Keith’s neck prickled.

“Okay… Is it about Lan-”

“It’s Shiro.”

Allura’s perceptive eyes on him, Keith’s comfort level went from a slightly too hot bath to volcanic. Panicking because until that moment he hadn’t considered the possibility that lunch was but a thinly veiled excuse to corner him. He suddenly had the urge to bail from the car and catch a bus home.

“I’ve seen how he looks at you,” Allura continued making Keith sweat even more. “And I just wanted to say that if you are planning on getting involved with him-”

“I- I’m not.” Keith was quick to protest. “Especially not after-”

“Keith...” She fixed him with a look that implied she was not there for nonsense. “I’ve seen the way you look at him too. And after showing up in the middle of the night, I can only assume-”

“That’s not why I-” Keith tried to insist but what excuse did he have other than the truth? And he _couldn’t_ tell the truth.

While he was grappling with how to get out of the situation he’d unassumingly walked into, it occurred to him that Lance wasn’t the only person he might have wronged when he’d been intimate with Shiro. He was, after all, Allura’s boyfriend.

“Listen, Allura.” Keith’s voice softened. “I know I never apologized to you for-”

“He’s never fully yours.”

“...huh?” Keith blinked at her, thrown off yet again.

“He’s never fully yours.” She turned to him allowing time for the words to properly sink in. “Even if he looks at you like you’re his entire world. Even if he makes you feel like he lives and breathes for you alone…” Her blue eyes were penetrating but full of kindness and compassion. “There are _always_ others. So in the case that you _do_ get involved with him…” She held up her hands for him to just listen. “Just be prepared for that.”

Keith was almost too gobsmacked for words. “Wh-Why are you telling me this?”

She sighed and dropped her hands from the steering wheel with downcast eyes. “Because it was hard for Matt.” 

She didn’t say more.

Keith scrutinized her. Slowly, he’d been putting together pieces of the Shiro, Allura, Matt puzzle.

“Allura… When you and Matt were together, did you cheat with Shiro?” He wasn’t sure if he was overstepping but asked anyway.

“We both did. Independently.” Expressionless, she gazed through the windshield. “Keith,” she began again after a long pause. “Lance is a dear friend so I don’t say this lightly, but if you were to pursue something with him, I’d understand and I’d welcome you. After all, I’ve been in your shoes.” She looked at him meaningfully. “I know the agony you’re going through.”

Baffled into silence, Keith looked out the window and had to perform a cursory reality check. Of all the people to tell him to go for it, he’d never expected it to be Allura. And still struggling to process the events of the previous day, he didn’t know where to begin with what she’d just dropped on him. The last twenty-four hours had been the most unexpected and surreal of his life.

“Keith, you’re allowed to forgive yourself. You’re allowed to live your life. You’re allowed to be conflicted in what you want.”

“I want my boyfriend- No, _my fiance_ , back!”

“I don’t doubt that you do. But is that all you want?”

Keith wet his lips and didn’t answer. He knew what she was getting at. Did he have feelings for Shiro? Yes. Probably… But what they were exactly he couldn’t say. It was impossible to articulate to himself let alone anybody else. Allura put her hand on his knee watching him struggle.

“I don’t know what I feel for him. He’s just always been there,” Keith muttered, rather embarrassed. “It’s so complicated.”

“It always is with Shiro.” She almost snorted. “You’re stuck between a rock and a hard place, Keith. I remember being there too. Too afraid to move because it might mean moving on, because it might mean losing something dear to you.”

Keith looked at her terrified.

“Want my advice?” Allura went on. “Give yourself the space to figure out what it is that you really want. And yes, that might mean letting go of Lance for a little while. You’ve been holding on so tightly, it’s all you remember how to do.”

“But you lost Matt that way.” Keith remained defiant.

“We haven’t lost each other yet.” She managed a small smile. “These things just take time, and also, our situations are not the same. What I ultimately wanted may not be what you will find is right for you. But, Keith, you’re never going to figure it out if you stay put.” 

She tilted her head sympathetically while Keith struggled to process her words. It was hard when his exhausted brain was firing on too-few cylinders, but that same tiredness also made him more honest with himself. His stomach churned with a guilty conscience.

“You cheated first, didn’t you?” He brought his eyes to the car’s other occupant, certain he was overstepping this time.

“You’d have to ask him that.” Starting the car, Allura held her head high and went cold on the topic.

 

 

Allura returned home with Keith in tow. Keith immediately rushed to his dog to make sure she was okay. He knew she would be, but seeing it with his own eyes and hearing her tail beat against the ground while he rubbed her tummy assuaged his trepidation in a way that logic couldn’t. 

He happened to catch Allura hugging Shiro from the corner of his eye. From the cheerful way she greeted him, you’d never have guessed the conversation they’d just had in the car. Keith marveled at her ability to switch like that when he couldn’t even bring himself to look at Shiro for fear he’d go red in the face.

Fastening Red’s leash, he made a quick exit so he wouldn’t have to.

“Be safe, okay?” Shiro’s worried eyes chased after him as he hurried out the door. “See you at the…” The door slammed shut fast. “...gym.” Shiro frowned, perplexed once again by Keith’s behavior.

Allura set about making tea in the kitchen while Shiro lingered in the living room peering through the blinds while a blue Toyota drove away. A hand pressed to his brow, he labored through a breath. Allura kept an eye on him, worried he might be about to have another episode, but that didn’t seem to be it.

“Shiro, are you alright?” She asked from the room’s entryway.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He answered automatically and turned to her with his confident Shiro-the-Hero grin in place.

“Shiro. Are you alright?” She asked again, familiar with that mask he wore.

“I’m fine.” He didn’t seem to understand what she was getting at, but nor was he aware that his grin had faltered.

“Shiro…” Seeing the cracks before he even knew they were there, she crossed the room to take him by the hands. He huffed an unsteady breath as she did.

“Allura, I said I’m-” He heard the shake in his voice that time.

She tilted her head. Empathetic blue eyes did him in.

“No. No I’m not alright.” He dropped to his knees before her and threw his arms around her middle. He hadn’t been alright in years. And the deja vu with Keith and Lance was only reminding him of how _not_ alright he was. “They’re such a mess. And I- I don’t know what to do anymore. I screwed up, Allura. I screwed up real bad.”

She stroked his hair while he let it out.

“Shiro, listen…” Allura turned his head upwards once he’d quieted. “I gave Keith permission.” 

The man on his knees gaped up at her.

“What? Why would you do that?”

“Shh...” She soothed the cheeks beneath a pair of shocked eyes.

“Allura, no! Why?” Beside himself with disbelief, he pressed his face into her stomach. After he’d been trying _so_ hard not to go there. After deciding it was time to walk away from it. After very nearly making his peace with that.

“Because I’m tired of watching you both struggle.” Damp at the edges, her blue eyes found his again. “And if I was ever a roadblock for either of you…”

Shiro clenched his fists at her sides. He needed every road block he could get. Every barrier, every blockade, every fence, hurdle, and trap that existed to keep himself away from Keith. So he didn’t ruin everything again.

“Will you talk to Matt? _Please?_ ” His eyes begged her to fix one mess before inviting another.

Delicate hands drifted from his form as her demeanor went cold.

“I leave for London the day after tomorrow.”

She excused herself from the room without answering his question.

Alone in the living room, Shiro was left on his knees.

 

* * * * * 

 

**The Afternoon Before the Gala.**

It had been a rough few days for Keith. In a lull between classes at the gym, he rested on a mat, near where they’d caged off an area for Red, staring at the ceiling and not trying terribly hard to short-circuit his foul mood.

Lance had been on his mind endlessly for... How many days had it been since his encounter with Lotor? He’d lost track. 

He was a wreck. Absolutely sick with worry.

Keith would have given up anything - even any remaining prospect of getting his old life back - if it meant Lance would be safe from that monster. More than once, he’d woken up in the dead of night thinking that the gun lodged in his mouth had been turned on Lance.

A loud bang jolted Keith to attention and set his heart pounding.

But it was just Shiro returning plates to their respective spindles across the gym. 

Heaving at his shattered nerves, he collapsed to the mat again. All the times he could have texted Lance but didn’t... And now he couldn’t. Adjusting to the new normal - to Lance truly being out of reach - was slowly sucking the life from him. Head lolling miserably to the side, his gaze wandered idly, tracking to movement. On the other side of the gym, Shiro was unloading a barbell. Barely aware of his own actions, Keith watched him. His eyes lazily drifted up thick arms while Shiro slid a cool twenty-five kilos off a bar like it was nothing.

Shiro had been in tough coach-mode all day, but damn if he wasn’t nice to look at. The corner of Keith’s mouth twitched with mischief.

As soon as he realized what he was doing, Keith tore his eyes away with a curse and put them back on the ceiling and the long, slow-spinning fan blades overhead. As much as his brain craved any reprieve from worrying about Lance, it couldn’t be _that._ He threw his hands over his face. It was getting worse. His body needed something it wasn’t getting and his empty emotional reserves were only making his moods more volatile. An unpleasant, constantly fluctuating mix of lonely, horny, angry, and just plain sad, he couldn’t remember feeling that out of whack since he was a teenager.

Fearfully, his mind shifted to what Allura had said to him.

She’d _understand._ She'd _welcome_ him. What the hell was he supposed to do with that information? Just walk over to Shiro, all _‘Hey, so Allura says it’s cool. You down?’_

He glanced back to Shiro again, his heart rate spiking because he was ninety-nine percent sure that approach would actually work.

Eyes lingering, Keith groaned low in his throat, a very _bad_ part of him wishing it were that simple. That he could just _do it_. Be that bold, that carefree.

But it was alright. The thought was fleeting and he was just looking. He already knew he was never going to mention what had been said in the car to Shiro.

While he was still staring, Shiro’s head turned to him.

Cursing under his breath, Keith quickly pretended to be stretching. But it was too late. Shiro was on his way over to him.

“You know what they say, if you’ve got time to lean, you’ve got time to clean.”

“Y-Yeah…” Keith got to his feet fast, worried he’d been caught looking.

“So, listen,” Shiro began. He seemed uncomfortable, agitated even. “I understand Allura might have talked to you about something.”

Keith’s eyes grew wide. It hadn’t even occurred to him that Allura might tell Shiro outright.

“I just want you to know, I didn’t ask her to do that.” Shiro met him with a steady gaze. “And I kind of wish she hadn’t.”

“O-Okay.” Keith nodded awkwardly. Shiro had caught him ogling, he was certain of it. 

“Do we need to… talk about it?”

Keith didn’t exactly remember what it was like to have a father, but the way Shiro posed the question felt downright parental. It damn-near inspired an eye roll. But awkward phrasing aside, it had opened the door. A door he’d sworn to keep shut.

Gaze drifting to the cleft of Shiro’s chest in the low-cut muscle shirt he was sporting, Keith’s mind fritzed back to what he’d found in his closet that morning. 

While searching for his scariest looking knife - he’d taken to carrying one at his back since Lotor’s threat - he’d stumbled upon something else instead: A gift bag with Happy Birthday in sparkly letters on the front and a card addressed to him. It hadn’t been wrapped really, so he’d peeked in the loose tissue paper and discovered a pair of large, old-fashioned photo albums, the kind he’d seen on grandparents’ coffee tables on TV. The first one was labeled _The First Twenty-Five Years_ and filled with page after page of photos of him and Lance - and Hunk and Pidge too - at the Garrison. Even Shiro and Coran made an occasional appearance. Keith had damn near teared up, but the ones of Red as a puppy had really gotten the waterworks going. It had been an emotional upheaval from there - Their old apartment, game nights, drunken adventures, and even pictures from their respective elementary schools that he didn’t know _how_ Lance had found. All of it documented. In sequential order. The best years of his life.

If that hadn’t been enough to bring him to his knees, the second album - completely empty - had been labeled _The Next Twenty-Five Years._

Keith had cursed Lance for the romantic sap that he was. If he had to guess, he’d stumbled upon how and when Lance had been planning to do his half of the proposal. On his 25th birthday. The one that had already passed. Five months prior. When they hadn’t been speaking because of what he’d done. 

“Uh… Keith?” Shiro waved his hands in front of Keith’s face bringing him back to the present. “Do we need to talk about it?”

“No. We don’t,” Keith said flatly. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Okay, good.” Shiro looked relieved. “Glad we’re on the same page. I don’t want things to be misleading.” Returning to his normal self, he grabbed a rag and a spray bottle and headed to tackle the whiteboards.

Keith bit his lip watching his broad, sloping shoulders retreat.

In a vacuum, he’d absolutely have jumped straight into Shiro’s bed and ridden the bedposts into the ground. But reality had never quite worked out that way. There were always repercussions. Now more than ever. Keith decided definitively that him and Shiro were never going to be a thing. His friend and trainer would remain something nice to look at. A piece of eye candy, he thought a little guiltily, but nothing more. He had a whole photo album back home of reasons why.

 

**That evening.**

Lotor and Lance were taking their time primping for the gala in the spacious master bedroom. Kova sat perched on top of the dresser, watching them curiously while shirts and ties were donned. Ezor had styled Lance’s hair before leaving to get ready and collect her date. Lance had given her a double thumbs up and a _‘you got this!’_ on her way out.

“So what goes on at this gala-” Galra minus one letter - he finally got it! “-thing anyways?” Lance asked. He shoved a hand into the side of his pants to apply fresh balm to his left hip before zipping them up.

“Hobnobbing primarily,” Lotor said with distaste and took the tub from him to do the same. “Usually I detest these sorts of dog and pony shows but tonight…” He turned to grace Lance with a fond smile. “I think tonight will be fun.” He wiped off his hand and returned the jar to the dresser. “But, listen...” His face grew serious. “You will be photographed. If I show up with a man as my date, it’s going to attract attention.”

“I don’t care if you don’t.” Lance tested him.

“I wouldn’t be doing this if I did.”

Jackets on, Lotor redirected his attention to the full-length mirror, admiring their reflections. Lance’s eyes followed and he found himself unexpectedly breathless. They looked _good_ together.

“I can’t believe you’re really going to come out for me.” He couldn’t help but to say it again.

“It’s for both of us. You and me, as a couple. This is going to be our night.” Lotor put his arms around him from behind like they were taking a prom photo. Lance grinned madly, delighted that socialite _Mister LSD_ wasn’t above cheesiness.

Their eyes locked in the mirror and the moment shifted, growing charged, heated. They both felt it. Lotor pressed against him with suggestion and a certain _look_ in his eyes. 

“Now, really?” Lance snickered mischievously. They were about to leave.

“You know I can’t help myself. You look so good in that suit.”

Eyes lidding, Lance shivered at the mouth nipping his ear. Sold on the rash decision, he spun on his heels and threw his arms around the man behind him. Lotor was waiting and found his mouth first.

“Just don’t mess up my hair okay?” Lance breathed. “And watch the tattoo!”

“No promises on the hair.” Lotor snickered, removing his jacket. He reached into a drawer for a small, plastic bottle.

“Ah… It’s empty.”

“What? Really?” Lance looked too. “How can we possibly be out of lube?” 

Lotor lifted his eyebrows in a way that asked if he really needed an answer to that.

“Hang on a sec, I think I’ve got some somewhere.” Lance rolled off the bed.

“Darling, it’s fine. We probably haven’t got time anyways and I’ll just order more up. It’ll be here by the time we get back.”

“No, no, no,” Lance insisted. “Let me take care of something for once.”

He disappeared into the bathroom where there was better lighting and began digging through a backpack he’d opened exactly once since moving in with Lotor - to take out his clothes and a few other personal items. But he knew he’d stashed some lube in there somewhere in case Keith had been feeling frisky after the proposal.

Lance stopped.

The proposal...

He’d managed not to think about it in a while and momentarily lost all motivation. 

Sighing at water under the bridge, he yanked out an old hoodie - in case Keith got cold - the faint smell of fresh ocean air coming with it. He checked the front pocket. 

All he found was sand. 

Tossing it aside, he dug around the blanket he’d packed away - in case cuddling or sex on the beach happened - but the maroon lump obstructed his fingers from getting to anything in the bottom of the bag. Tired of memories he’d rather forget, Lance ripped the large blanket from the backpack in one fell swoop sending sand, a handful of spare change, and some other junk from his bag flying everywhere.

“Shit…” He cursed at the noise and mess. Flicking out the blanket he freed a sample-sized packet of lube and a few more stray coins.

“Aha!” He cried, eyes following what he’d come for as it flew through the air and skidded onto the tiles. Some quarters and a flash of something blue rolled behind the toilet. Lance caught it from the corner of his eye.

He froze.

That wasn’t- It couldn’t be- 

His eyes were playing tricks on him.

“Lance, are you ready? The girls are here.”

“Coming!”

Lance grabbed the lube then snatched up a handful of items that had gone behind the toilet, shoving them all in his jacket pocket. Straightening before the mirror, he dusted the sand from his suit and caught his reflection’s rattled eye before dashing off after Lotor.

“Got it!” Back it the bedroom, he flashed the small packet, paler but with an otherwise unfazed grin. 

“Excellent. Looks like somebody won’t have to go without tonight.” Lotor flirted and took him by the hand.

Lance’s head was still spinning when they met Ezor and Acxa by the door.

 

 

The party of four - a couple of guys and a couple of gals rode to the Annual Komar Gala - held in City Hall - in style. A string of LED lights along the limo roof cast a bluish hue on the vehicle's interior and a similar strand illuminated the curved edge of a surface designed for entertaining and mixing drinks. Equipped with a full bar, the swank limousine had all the bells and whistles. Lotor and Lance were cozied up against each other on the end of the long seat furthest from the driver talking in quiet voices. At the other end of the car in a deep purple ball gown that matched her hair, Acxa sat with her arms and legs crossed and a scowl on her face. Ezor, hair in a high ponytail and in a pink sequined number that wasn’t shy about putting ‘the girls’ on display, leaned forward chin-in-hand enviously eying the limo’s other couple. Her date was far less interactive.

“Alright, how about some drinks!” She tried to inject some enthusiasm and maybe even loosen Acxa up a little. “Who wants one?” She grabbed the biggest bottle from under the bar.

“Yes, please! I’ll take a double!” Lance replied.

“We’ll share one. It’s going to be a long night,” Lotor cautioned. “Darling, are you alright? You’re awfully fidgety,” he asked as he passed a glass to Lance.

“Huh? I’m just feeling a little off is all.” Leg bouncing anxiously, Lance did his best to smile his worries away. It was all happening so fast. They were about to do this big public thing and it suddenly occurred to him that there was an awful lot he didn’t know about Lotor.

Taking a long drag and tasting mostly vodka, Lance considered the man next to him. “Hey, can I ask you a question?” He asked while his knee continued to bounce in place.

“Of course.”

Lance passed off the drink they were sharing and hesitated before laying it on him.

“How old are you?” He only just realized he had no idea.

The glass froze mid-way to Lotor’s lips.

“Ageless. Next question.” With the air of someone high class, he lifted the drink to his mouth.

“Ha-ha. Come on, seriously…”

“Why do you want to know?”

Lance huffed internally at the dodge. It was typical Lotor, answering a question with another question. He wanted to play that game? Okay, Lance had weaponry of his own.

“Well, I guess before we go public and all I’d kind of like to know if I’m fucking a dirty old man or not.”

Ezor snorted into her cocktail across the cabin.

“Dirty old- Hey!”

“Look, all I’m saying is I don’t know if that’s silver or grey coming out of your head.” An eyebrow twitched dangerously. Lance had figured out that while Lotor didn’t always reply directly, it was _very_ easy to tease answers out of him. And it was just the bit of fun he needed to forget about the incident in the bathroom.

“Lance, for Chrissake, I’m thirty-three!” Lotor claimed and self-consciously touched his white locks.

The divider between the cabin and the front seats rolled down. Narti’s hand holding a cellphone was stuck through it.

_Thirty-five._ The text-to-speech app said.

Lotor rolled his eyes into his hand amidst snickers from his generals. 

“Fine, I’m thirty-five. Thirty-six on April first.”

“Shit, that’s soon!” Lance cried. But he’d gotten his birthday as a bonus. That was no small victory. “Wow, you’re ten years older than me.” He raised a smug eyebrow, rather impressed with himself.

_“And?”_

“So that means you were about my age at Empire G when you-” 

Lance fell silent. Lotor was equally so.

“When he what?” Ezor, who had been eavesdropping, asked.

“Nothing.” Lance dropped it. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and sulked out the window, congratulating himself on immediately making things awkward. Their big night was off to a great start. Empire G was a taboo topic. Why did he have to go there? Lotor was different than he was back then, so why couldn’t he just let it go already! With a sinking feeling, Lance wondered if they might never get passed it.

“How old did you think I was back then?” The man from his present and past broke the silence. 

Lance slowly turned to him a little taken aback. Lotor had never engaged him in conversation about Empire G before. It was new and uncharted territory.

“I never really thought about it,” Lance admitted carefully. “You were just _older._ ”

“I pegged you for about twenty-three.”

“Really?” Lance grinned a little too proudly.

“A _young_ twenty-three,” Lotor added, bringing an arm loosely around him. “But I knew you’d come into your own one day. I count myself lucky to have gotten to bear witness to that.”

Brow softening, Lance scooted closer, letting Lotor’s arm pull snug.

“I know- I know we didn’t have the most perfect beginning…” Lotor started. Lance’s heart was steadily rising to his throat. It wasn’t like Lotor to stumble over his words. “But Lance, I’m very grateful you’re here with me tonight.” He set a hand on Lance’s thigh.

Lance took his hand out of his pocket to take Lotor’s. “I am, too.” 

Smiling secretly, he tilted his head onto the Lotor’s shoulder and took a moment to marvel that they’d managed to talk about their dark origins. Even if there was a lot Lance still didn’t know about him, they’d come a long way.

The limo pulled into a turn-in in front of City Hall and the event space.

“Well?” Lotor excitedly caught his eye. “Are you ready for this?”

“Are you?” Nervous for him, Lance flipped the question back around.

“Darling, if there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s how to make an entrance.” His teeth flashed, cocky as ever.

Lance, not nearly as practiced in such things, stayed worried as he gazed out the window at the sea of media and cameras poised along a narrow walkway of carpet. Lance liked attention but that was _a lot_ of attention. What if he had to talk into a microphone? What if he completely flubbed his words? What if he said the wrong thing? Feeling a cold sweat coming on, Lance shrank away from the window.

“I’ll follow your lead.”

“Don’t be nervous.” Lotor squeezed his hand. “They’re going to love you just as much as I do.”

“Wait, you love me?” Lance’s head snapped to him, riddled with anxiety anew. 

Lotor just smirked and kissed his fingers as the car pulled to a stop.

“We’re here.”

 

**The entrance.**  
_Reporter Amy May for VLD 6 news. Guests for the third-annual Komar Charity Gala have been steadily arriving all evening. Pulling up now is the highly anticipated Mister LSD, being honored tonight for his contributions to the Komar district and continued efforts to gentrify that neighborhood._

A tall man in a traditional tuxedo with silver side line trim and embellishments that matched his fashionably thin tie stepped out of a black limousine. His hair was pulled back in a svelte, low ponytail and, smiling, he posed for the crowd, allowing a photo op before reaching back in the limo to help his date out.

_Fashionable as ever and the most eligible bachelor in this town, many will aspire to the lucky lady that ends up on his arm tonight._

A surprised murmur came from the crowd when a thin young man appeared on the other end of Mister LSD’s hand. Excited whispers grew to a dull roar. Cameras flashed wildly. A flurry of questions were thrown at the man holding court at the center of it all.

_It appears Mister LSD has arrived with a- a man! I’m getting word from the station that- yes, as of yet we don’t know who he is. But again, philanthropist and known playboy Mister LSD arriving with a mystery man. Rumors will surely be abound as to the nature of their relationship. We’ll get you the latest as soon as we-_

With a smirk to the cameras, Mister LSD turned to the man at his side and brought their lips together in a tender, lingering display of affection that dispelled any and all rumors before they’d even had a chance to take flight.

_Oh gosh! What an exciting night indeed! Mister LSD, kissing this mystery man on the red carpet. They do, in fact, appear to be an item._

The press was going nuts for it. With his arm around his date, Mister LSD waved proudly to the media as he traversed the red carpet that led to the event hall.

 

\----

 

After finishing his shift at the gym, Keith was grabbing a burrito from his favorite Mexican place. They knew his order by heart now that he could afford to buy them on the reg and didn’t mind him bringing a dog inside. 

With no reason to rush home, he ate at a table next to a colorful mural of a large casa in the Mexican countryside that stretched along the taco shop’s entire wall. Smiling at Red, Keith slipped her bits of carne asada from his burrito for good behavior.

The TV in the corner just above the pickup counter caught his eye. He blinked at it. What the hell was Lance doing on the screen?

_Breaking news from moments ago... We go now to roving reporter Amy May with an exclusive interview, live from the Komar Gala._

_‘Famed playboy and Saint of the Komar District, Mister LSD, gay, dating mystery man’_ scrolled on the ticker below.

Lance was in a suit and light blue tie that matched his eyes. His hair was spiked up in a ridiculous faux-hawk that actually really suited him. Keith’s face pained. He looked so good.

The shot changed.

That asshole was at his side and with his arm around him. Keith seethed in his seat while together they posed for a lightning storm of camera flashes.

_"Mister LSD, usually you arrive with a gorgeous girl on your arm. What inspired the change of company this evening?”_

_“I’ve simply decided to be myself tonight.”_

_“You’ve a reputation as something of a playboy, is it true you were never sleeping with those women?”_

_“That was an assumption on the media’s part, though I’ll admit I have at times leaned into those rumors.”_

_“But you are with this other fellow?”_

_“Miss May...”_ He laughed coyly then shot Lance a _look_ that made Keith’s insides blaze.

_“We have a relationship you would expect of two people who are… rather smitten with each other.”_

Keith shook his head hope wilting within him while Lance beamed at the man next to him. He looked so… happy. So _enamored._

_“Would it be correct to assume you’re gay, then?”_

_“Yes, but my partner here identifies as bisexual. It’s important to note the difference and not erase that identity.”_

Bits of the burrito that had gone forgotten in his hand dropped to the floor and were quickly snuffed up by Red as Keith’s blood ran cold. The nerve… He’d played him. He’d played _both_ of them. Of course Lance was infatuated with this guy. He knew exactly what to say. Keith had already made all the mistakes for him.

_“Are you in love?”_ The reporter pressed.

The man on the screen smirked. 

_“He already knows the answer to that.”_

A half-eaten burrito was dunked in the nearest trashcan and the bells on the taco shop’s door jingled as Keith stormed out of it with Red at his side.

Though he trembled, it wasn’t with rage.

He just felt stupid.

Stupid for having waited so long.

 

\-----

 

Clad in grey sweatpants that were made for lounging and a black tank top that was better suited as an undershirt, Shiro was positioned comfortably with his laptop and a leg up on the couch in the midst of a quiet night in. Dark-rimmed reading glasses paralleled his scar and with a half-finished beer on the coffee table, he was deep in spreadsheets, planning out workouts for his clients for the following week. 

A frantic rapping at the door nearly sent his laptop flying. Jerking upright, alarmed, because the last time there’d been a knock like that it had been-

“Keith!” 

In a panic, he nearly tore the door off its hinges and protectively pulled the man and accompanying dog on his doorstep inside.

“Are you okay? Did someone hurt you again?” Shiro frantically checked Keith’s wrists, his face for abrasions. When there were none to be found, he dragged his eyes up and down Keith’s frame, looking for any sign of anything, a hair, an eyelash, out of place.

Keith let Shiro inspect him as he saw fit, his dark, unwavering eyes not moving from the other man’s face. In Shiro’s haste, it went unnoticed. 

Franticness was replaced with confusion when Keith appeared by all accounts to be fine.

“I’m okay. Really.” A soft smile assured him.

“Jesus, you scared me.” Shiro heaved with relief and dropped the wrists he was still holding. Sporting a flicker of a smile, his expression shifted to bewilderment. “So what the heck are you doing here?”

Keith swallowed and with the same steadfast gaze took a step closer.

This time, it did not go unnoticed.

“Ah, Keith… A-Allura’s not here.” Distance was quickly put between them.

“I know.” Keith took another step, lessening that distance. “She’s in London visiting her parents.”

_Step._

“Shiro…”

Dark eyes flashed upwards.

A pair of eyes above a scar widened as with a final scuffing of feet, the distance between them closed to mere inches. Keith’s lidded eyes darted to his lips for a split second, and Shiro, unblinking eyes trained on his unexpected guest, was as frozen and defenseless as a deer caught in the headlights. 

 

\-----

 

Probing questions from a dozen and a half eager, fast-talking reporters later and they were finally inside. Lance felt dizzy. It had taken them the better part of an hour just to get in the door and the night was just getting started. Unable to remember anything he’d been asked or what he said in response, his anxiety was playing up something fierce. 

And it definitely didn’t have anything to do with what might or might not be in his pocket at that very moment.

He hadn’t looked yet. Not only had he not had the time to deal with it, he didn’t _want_ to deal with it. 

And anyways, it was ridiculous. It hadn’t felt the right shape and, more importantly, he’d watched it go into the ocean. There was no way. 

Determined to not let it be a distraction, he set it solidly out of mind and reminded himself that this night was about him and _Lotor._

And nobody else.

“Are you alright?” His concerned date took him by the arms into a quiet corner.

“Yeah. That was just… a lot.” Lance rubbed his eyes. There were still blind spots in his vision from the camera flashes. “You weren’t kidding about being photographed.”

“I wish I could say it’s over, but they’re relentless. They’re going to be on us all night.” 

“Great…” Lance huffed.

“They’re awful, the press. It takes some getting used to, being under their eye…” Lotor’s tone and expression were soft, sympathetic. “Sometimes it’s best to control the narrative with them and stay ahead of the curve. Do you understand what I’m saying?” He thumbed his Garrison boy’s bottom lip. 

Lance locked eyes with him, grasping what he was getting at.

“Right…” Committing himself to the evening, Lance nabbed him by the tie and started pulling his mouth close with a sneaky smile in place. “Give them something to talk about.”

“Precisely.” Lotor leaned in too.

“Hey, about what you said in the car...” Lance hesitated. “Did you really mean-”

“Mister LSD!” A boisterous woman’s voice rang out. 

“Councilwoman Grace.” Lotor stepped away from him with his media smile in place - Lance had learned to tell the difference. An entire entourage of the councilwoman’s people swarmed them. With a sigh, Lance faded into the background while Lotor did his thing. He helped himself to a glass of champagne from a nearby server hoping it would replace the buzzing of his nerves with a better kind of buzz. Taking a gander around the ostentatious setting of the black tie affair and its well-to-do attendees, Lance couldn't help but wish Keith had been there to make fun of it with him. He’d have absolutely hated it.

Annoyed at the fond thoughts of his ex and with a hand itching to go into a pocket, Lance polished off his champagne. It was going to be a long night. 

 

\----

 

The two of them alone in Shiro’s living room, there was a moment where the whole room seemed to be filled by only their breathing. Keith’s eyes wafted over Shiro’s form as if he was seeing him for the first time. They'd only ever kissed twice before - once in a botched threeway that had sent Lance spiraling and then again in a fateful moment on a locker room bench that had ultimately been his downfall. But Keith would be a liar if he said that each time hadn’t electrified him. 

“Uh, Keith...” Growing increasingly nervous under that gaze, Shiro moved to deescalate the situation. “Maybe I wasn’t clear enough before-”

“Shiro. Shut up.”

The memory of the two occasions fresh on his mind, Keith launched himself at Shiro, ready to taste his mouth without guilt.

But Shiro caught him by the arms and held him off.

It took a moment for Keith to figure out what was happening. When he did, he looked up at the other man, shocked by the refusal.

“Think this through,” Shiro begged, fighting against the limits of his own self-control.

“What? Are you serious?”

He didn’t want to think anymore. That was the whole reason he’d come. Keith grit his teeth and stumbled backwards, frustrated and embarrassed and just _done_. 

“Do you want me or not?” He exploded.

Shiro scowled at him like he wasn’t going to answer that. But he didn’t have to. They both already knew.

“Okay, then why-”

“Because I don’t want to be the bad guy!” Shiro uncharacteristically snapped. “I don’t-” He took a moment to regain control and restore his tone to even-measure. “I don’t want to be the thing that stops you from getting back with Lance. And I am that thing, Keith. I’m what broke you up in the first place and if you go there with me, there is no going back. Do you really want to throw your life away like that? On _me?_ ”

Keith opened his mouth ready to go off on him but no words came out. He couldn’t bring himself to explain why all of those concerns no longer mattered. The fire in Keith’s eyes waned to impassive dullness. The fight left him. Rather than default to words, he began digging in the couch instead.

“What are you doing?” Shiro cocked his head at the sound of rummaging.

“Looking for the remote.”

He found it and turned on the TV. It only took a few clicks to find a channel that was airing it. 

_“Uh oh, ladies… Wealthy backer of Sincline General and eligible bachelor numero uno, Mister LSD is no longer single!”_

Lotor’s face splashed across the screen next to the obnoxious Perez Hilton knock-off.

_“Mister LSD, who’s the gentleman you showed up with tonight?”_

_“My date and my partner for some time now.”_

_“And he’s GAY?! Gasps!”_

_“But just who is the smitten kitten at his side?”_

Watching with dismay, Shiro slowly dropped onto the couch as a half-dozen pictures of a very in-love Lance gazing at Lotor cluttered the screen.

_“And you sir, Mister LSD’s Mystery Man, what’s the secret to landing such a catch?”_

A microphone was thrust in Lance’s face.

_“Uh… I guess I didn’t realize who he was.”_

_“Your thoughts now that you do?”_

_”He… He sure is something alright.”_

_“Are those wedding bells I hear?”_

_“Well, I guess I have always wanted to get married.”_

“Goddammit, Lance.” Shiro rubbed his brow. “Keith, you know they edit these things. He probably didn’t say it like that.” He tried to be optimistic, but the man holding the remote limply at his side didn’t lift his eyes from the floor.

_“There you have it. Mister LSD, gay and very much in love with a bisexu-”_

The TV switched off, leaving them in near darkness. 

“He’s gone, Shiro. He’s in love with someone else.” The remote was half-heartedly tossed back onto the sofa. “And he doesn’t get to say who I can or can’t be with anymore.” Keith held his head up defiantly and stepped in front of the man he’d come to see. “I want this.” Though he didn’t exactly know what _this_ meant, he at least knew where it started.

A hand landed on the back of the couch to the side of Shiro’s head. Leaning closer, Keith planted a knee on either side of the sofa’s singular occupant and climbed onto him. Shiro looked up at him like he couldn’t believe what was happening, like if he so much as breathed it would all disappear into the ether, but at the same time, he made no move to encourage it.

The hesitation was not lost on Keith, but neither was the very obvious tent Shiro was pitching. Loose-fitting sweatpants did a poor job of concealing his enthusiasm. Smirking with confidence, Keith brought his weight down into Shiro’s lap and felt the other man’s thighs tighten beneath him. 

“I know you want it too.” Keith dropped the whisper in his ear and, bringing his hands to rest behind Shiro’s neck, _pressed_ into him, making sure Shiro knew he was just as hard as he was. 

Shiro’s breaths came out in rapid, shallow bursts, but his arms remained limp and unengaged at his sides.

Nipping at the salty skin of his neck, Keith grinded against him. A low groan from the back of a throat - the sound of Shiro’s waning resistance. Keith felt the vibration of it beneath his fingers that moved from chest to neck to jaw. Leaning in, he brushed his lips across Shiro’s in something that could very easily have been turned into a kiss, but Shiro’s lips didn’t move against his. 

Keith nudged him again but to no avail. Shiro wouldn’t kiss him back. 

Keith pulled back to try to look in his eyes but they were far away, fixed on nothing.

“I can’t, Keith.” The words fell softly between them.

Keith sagged against him in defeat. It had been so long since he’d been with anybody and he was so desperate for it he wanted to die. He’d come looking for comfort, for an outlet, maybe even for an inkling of that feeling - of what it felt like to be loved. But it wasn’t going to work if Shiro didn’t want to give it to him. He’d been rejected enough times in his life to understand that.

“Okay, I get it.” Mortified but coming around to acceptance, Keith started to climb off him. 

Shiro hazily watched him retreat, felt his absence the second he left his lap. Fighting against every fiber of his being that was screaming to pull him back in-

_No..._

_Patience yields focus..._

Keith, yes, _Keith_ , was finally within reach, and he was just going to let him go? 

_Patience yields focus..._

Better he be there than drunk in a bar somewhere. The devil on his shoulder rallied. 

_Patience yields..._

Drunk in a bar with… 

A grotesque mouth with yellowed teeth formed the words _'Hey, Sparkles.’_

SENDAK.

“Keith-” A wrist was grabbed as something in Shrio snapped.

Keith spun back to him.

Their eyes locked, surprise and terror on both ends.

And a moment later their lips did too.

Crashing together, joined at the mouths, Keith tumbled back into Shiro’s lap as impulse overruled rationale. 

The last time Shiro had kissed him Keith had finished on the spot. He wasn’t far off this time either. The back-and-forth of the entire ordeal and the final resolution of it - being pressed against Shiro, tongues deep in each others mouths - nearly had him coming in his pants.

“God, Keith. Are you- Are you sure?” A worried gasp made it out from under the deluge of fierce kisses.

“Stop talking.”

In a single breath, Keith shoved the ornamental cushions that embellished the couch to the floor and shifted back onto his elbows, pulling the bigger man on top of him. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that this was happening.

Because he’d already been doing the time. So why not also do…

The crime.

Surrendering to the moment, Shiro dove onto him and kissed him like the world was ending.

  


  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BEFORE YOU FREAK OUT! They haven’t gone through with it yet. This is part 1 of 2 and you should know by now that nothing is ever that smooth, simple, or without _nuance_ in my stories.
> 
> **Real talk…**  
>  Let me just say, this chapter and the next one (it’s ~75% done) have been, by far, the most difficult and exhausting to execute yet. I have been _stressed_ beyond belief about getting it RIGHT. The amount of sleep lost over it is abominable and verging on unhealthy. I am terrified for your reactions (but please don’t hold back!) and I just want to reiterate that whatever happens, it's for the plot and it’s going to be okay. Please keep trusting me on that. 
> 
> As harrowing as this chapter has been, I’m also rather pleased with how it’s turned out and would be remiss if I didn’t thank Ashesofthefirststar for providing invaluable feedback on an early draft. I know these chapters can be emotional rollercoasters for you, but rest assured, this one has been a trip and a _half_ for me. And I still have editing the whole second part to go!
> 
> As they are meant to be experienced in quick succession, I will be trying to get to next chapter out within a week. But bear with me. I might need a break.  
>  
> 
> Next chapter: **The Crime: Part 2**


	16. The Crime: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We’re back for part 2 of _The Crime_. Keith is at Shiro’s while Lance is at a Gala with Lotor and shit is about to get _real_.
> 
> In this chapter:  
> \- Somebody hangs on to confront the past  
> \- Somebody lets go to look to the future  
> \- And more than one somebody declares their love
> 
> By the end of this chapter, so many tables will have turned. Nothing will be the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same warnings as last chapter apply. 
> 
> Let me just say that it’s not so much about *what* happens as *how* it happens and even more important still is what happens *after*.  
> So just promise me you’ll at least read the whole chapter before you throw the book at me.
> 
> Those of you who are mad at Shiro for giving in to Keith _even though he showed some serious restraint and only caved as a means to protect Keith from dudes like Sendak_ (which arguable has its own set of issues, I know), you’re going to probably stay mad at him for a while. I can’t solve everything in one chapter and this arc isn’t really about him. It’s about Keith dealing with losing Lance. And speaking of that special boy, not to get your hopes up, but what has Lancey Lance got in his pocketses, precious?
> 
> Ship/spoiler warning:  
> As a heads up, some of you might want to skip the section after the line “If that’s how you want it.” and come back in at the bolded "Missteps." The rest I think is required for the sake of the plot. 
> 
> Hoo boy… See you in the comments.

  
 

 **Acxa.**  
The Third Annual Komar Charity Gala was well underway. She hadn’t thought it would be, but it was, in a word, _perfection_. 

A glass of bubbling champagne held loosely in her hand, Acxa smiled serenely at the scene around her. At the crazed press jockeying for position, eager to be the first to get the latest scoop. At the Gala attendees craning their necks and excitedly gossiping over the news. And at the center of it all... Lotor, dazzling the cameras. Lotor, charming every interviewer.

Lotor…

Her eyes lingered along the edges of his frame.

He was a sight to behold. A true master of his craft. None commanded a room a like he.

And what fortune it was that the Garrison Boy was at his side. 

For all the world to see.

In every photo. In every interview. His face soon to be plastered next to headlines of the acclaimed _Mister L.S.D._

A devious smile twisted.

She’d never needed to hand over information to Zarkon’s informant. The press was going to do all the work for her. Soon, Zarkon would know his son’s greatest weakness, his most obvious exploit, and there wasn’t a doubt in her mind what he would do with that information.

The Garrison boy’s days were numbered.

Standing happily on the sidelines and already tasting victory on her tongue, Acxa sipped champagne in what was surely the calm before the coming storm.

It was truly a perfect night.

 

 

 **Panic at The Gala.**  
In the main ballroom of City Hall, a fresh crop of bodies thronged the couple of the hour, showering them with ingratiating greetings, peppering them with questions. In the midst of the madness, Lance pulled at his collar. Though it was an impeccably tailored suit, it felt too tight. Similarly, the air in the elaborately decorated event space was thick, stifling. He wouldn’t have minded stepping outside for a bit but the attendees were as persistent as the press. There wasn’t a moment to get away.

That, and Lotor seemed comfortable in the social chaos. Lance didn’t want to pull him out of his element.

Unable to stand it any longer, he backed away from the man for whom all the attention was really for and found some relief at the edges of all the hubbub. His spot at Lotor’s side was soon snapped up by the next hopeful waiting in the wings.

For the most part, their long-awaited public outing had been going well, he supposed. When he actually had Lotor’s attention, that is. When they were actually able to be alone together, which had been all of about fifteen minutes since they’d gotten out of the car. His social butterfly of a date was otherwise occupied.

A lot.

Lawyers, politicians, and a lot of other stuffy, kowtowing types had been vying for his attention all night. And every second he was left on his own was another second Lance spent winding himself up. He couldn’t keep still. When he sat he wanted to stand. When he stood he wanted to pace. When he paced he wanted to run.

Run from the weight dragging him down in his pocket.

Snagging another glass of champagne, Lance escaped to the outside lobby and sprinted up a grand staircase, to where he didn’t know. But he needed to get away from the crowds and the stress of any more questions, needed space to think. The spare change and whatever else was in his jacket jingled as he climbed a second flight of stairs, feeding into his trepidation and making his heart race faster.

He ducked behind a marble statue of a woman holding scales of justice when he reached the top and doubled over feeling on the edge of a panic attack. His palms were clammy. Anxiety had been steadily rising in him all night. What was going on? This was their big night! Why couldn’t he enjoy it? And after he’d waited for it for so long too...

He couldn’t focus, that was why. Not when there was something burning a hole in his pocket.

He still hadn’t looked. He didn’t want to know and yet he couldn’t stop thinking about it. What if it was? His knees nearly gave out at the thought. Fingers itching at the perimeter of a pocket, he made up his mind. He was going to check. But just to put his mind at ease. Just to prove to himself that it wasn’t ...that thing he’d regretted throwing away since the moment it had left his fingertips? 

_No!_

Lance shutdown that train of thought and somehow managed to gather his wits about him. Shoving it all out of mind, he reprimanded himself for even entertaining the idea. It was disrespectful on a night that was supposed to be about Lotor. And besides, of course it wasn’t _that_. He’d thrown it in the ocean. He’d let it all go. And for good reason.

Straightening himself and his jacket, he prepared to head back downstairs. On his way back to the staircase, he spotted Ezor out the corner of his eye. She was sulking on one of the third floor overhangs and looked to be having about as much fun as he was.

“Hey, E.” He sidled up to her, grateful for a familiar face.

“Oh, hey Lance.” She was not her usual, bubbly self. 

“I take it your date isn’t going well.”

Ezor sighed heavily. “She doesn’t like me. She likes Lotor.” She sagged against the overlook’s railing.

“Really? You think?” Lance peered over the edge too. Beneath them, Acxa was indeed watching her leader from across the room.

“God, she hasn’t taken her eyes off him all night! I don’t know what I was thinking. This is so stupid! She’s straight, Lance. Do you have any idea how awkward it is trying to flirt with a straight person?”

“I’ve been informed.” Lance smiled wryly. “It’s the worst feeling though, when they don’t like you back.” He leaned against the balcony with her. “It hurts even more when they like someone else. Someone that you could never even come close to being.”

“Right? And it’s _especially_ dumb in her case because she can never have him either! You can’t even call it a love triangle, it’s just lines that lead to nowhere!”

Lance frowned comparing it to his own love triangle, one with very much the opposite problem. Lines leading _everywhere_. Well, almost everywhere. There was one line missing… The one from Shiro leading back to him.

Lance sighed watching the bubbles in his champagne.

“I’m sorry, Ezor. I kind of put you in this situation. I should’ve thought it through.” He bowed his head not really knowing what else to say.

“It’s not your fault, Lance.” She smiled kindly. “Ugh, whatever. Fuck straight girls and their hopeless crushes, I’m gonna go do blow.” She pulled a small packet of powder out of her cleavage. “Want in?” 

“I’m good with just the bubbles.” Lance gestured with his glass and watched as his friend started to trudge off. “Hey Ezor,” he called after her and waited until she turned. “You look really beautiful tonight.” 

A sorrowful smile flickered on her face.

“I wish she thought so too.”

Sad for his friend, Lance went back to watching the milling crowd below. Attendees were starting to take their seats at the round tables that had been set for a multi-course meal. Lotor’s speech was probably soon. He should probably head back down there. Without thinking, Lance’s hand drifted into his pocket. It slid around the packet of lube that took up most of the real estate and began sifting through the items under it one-by-one until...

His fingers touched metal. 

And unless it was missing it’s entire middle, it definitely wasn’t a quarter.

Visions of a sunset and a cliffside sparked in his mind, the half circle of the sinking sun burning clear as day before his eyes as a fingertip ran around curved edges. And then, so did fingerless gloves. Contrasting sharply against the red-orange sky and worn on a hand that pushed a tuft of dark hair behind an ear, they dragged down the back of a neck through a shaggy mullet accompanied by a coy smile and puppy-soft eyes that were aimed at him.

_Keith…?_

Lance’s insides tightened defensively and melted at the same time. A complete clash of emotions that momentarily jammed up his brain. In his confusion all he could do was ride out the bittersweetness of the memory, of the reminder of the Keith that had loved him.

His pant pocket buzzed not a second later. Certain it was Keith, that this was the sign he’d been waiting for all along, Lance’s sweaty palms fumbled frantically to get his phone out of his trousers. His fingers couldn’t unlock his screen fast enough.

Silver: Darling, where are you?  
Silver: I want you backstage with me.

Lance stared at his screen a long moment before it really sank in.

Lotor was looking for him. 

Of course.

He didn’t acknowledge the disappointment, wouldn’t even admit it to himself.

Stamping out the foolish hope and the ridiculous notion that things best left forgotten had been in his backpack and not underwater this whole time, he took a resolute breath and headed back downstairs to his date. To Lotor. To his partner. To their night before an adoring crowd and a celebration that was entirely - exclusively - for them.

With every step, Lance willfully ignored the disquiet and apprehension that were slowly seeping back in. Even more vehemently, he denied the nagging part of his brain, the humming of his nerves, the vibration of his entire being, all of which seemed to thrum with the same frequency - 

_KEITH! KEITH! KEITH!_

 

 

 **Now, please?**  
The heated frenzy in Shiro’s living room had dwindled to something slower. The climate on the couch, though still hot and heavy, was driven by a less hurried intensity. 

But there was a problem.

Keith was…

Bored.

And ready to get on with it already.

Fifteen minutes after embarking down a road with no return, he’d had enough of kissing and was growing more impatient by the second. He wanted to fuck, but Shiro, it seemed, was more inclined to makeout for hours. Taking his time, dragging every moment of it out, emotion and intent behind every slide of his hand and roll of his tongue, that was the problem... Shiro wasn't a fucker; he was a love maker. And Keith had come with something a little more quick-and-dirty in mind.

“Hey, can we just do this already?” Keith shoved him back. 

“We'll get there. We have all night.” Shiro went back to lazily sucking at his neck but Keith pulled away again.

“You know I can go more than once, right?”

“Oh, believe me, I remember.”

Keith very nearly rolled his eyes as Shiro kissed him again. Other than the old guy he’d been too drunk to remember sleeping with and an almost time with Lance in Rax’s hotel room, he’d had _nothing_ in the last five months. He was fairly certain he could grind one out through his pants if he tried hard enough. At least Lance always knew to get him off fast the first time.

Provoked by thoughts of his former boyfriend, Keith dodged Shiro’s mouth again.

“I want to fuck. _Now._ ”

“Alright.” Shiro smirked and started kissing down Keith's torso to get to his pants.

“Not here.” Keith shirked him off. There was something about lying down that made it too much, too _personal_ , especially with the way Shiro was doing it. He scrambled off the couch dragging the other man by the wrist with him and stopped in front of the dining room table. He set his hands on the edge of it. “Here. Like this.”

“You wouldn’t rather in the bedroom?” Shiro suggested.

“What? No!” Keith balked at that idea. He leaned his palms on the wooden surface they’d eaten breakfast on just days before. “Here.”

A touch reluctant, Keith had to pull Shiro into place behind him. He put his trainer’s hands on him, dragging his fingers up his thigh, trying to get him to take the lead. 

“Come on, Shiro, I know you’re more of a top than this.” He tried to make it sound inviting.

Shiro cleared his throat.

“Did you bring a condom?”

“No.”

“Keith, we’ve talked about-”

“I didn’t know I was coming here when I left!” He snapped. Of course he wasn’t prepared. “Can you not do this right now?”

Shiro sighed with disappointment and procured one from his wallet.

Keith unzipped and heard the tearing of a packet behind him followed by Shiro’s shifting sweats and the crinkling of latex. He silently shimmied his pants just low enough, not bothering to take off his shoes and leaned on the table again. Feeling Shiro’s presence behind him, he wet his lips, body throbbing with anticipation.

“Ah, Keith…” - A soft voice and a softer hand on his side - “I'd rather face you.”

“You gonna fuck me or not?” Hands firmly planted on the table, Keith stuck with what he was comfortable with. 

He also shied away from the gentle caress that was offered as Shiro stepped into position. 

“And you can be rough with me. We’re not making love here.” He knew his words stung, but echoing Shiro’s sentiment from earlier, he didn’t want things to be misleading.

“If that’s how you want it.” Tone shifting, Shiro seemed to catch on to what Keith was looking for. Taking him firmly by the hips, he repositioned the body before him. Keith was bent at the waist, his feet shuffled slightly wider, and his body pushed forward into the table, the sharp edge of it digging into his thighs. He moved willingly, cock twitching at the hint of aggression and hungry for more of it. 

Cheeks were hastily spread to lube him up. Keith moaned for it, backing up into Shiro’s fingers, already leaking precum and whispering for him to _hurry_. There was one more squelch from the lube bottle as Shiro slickened himself up too. Then, with an arm around his torso and lips at his neck, Shiro was behind him, sliding between his ass cheeks and gently pressing against him. Keith swayed dizzily. It was really happening.

Letting up on the aggression, Shiro eased his way in. But impatient as ever, Keith thrust his hip back, trying to take his cock all at once and immediately let slip a sharp, poorly stifled gasp. His heels peeled up off the floor. Shiro was _huge_ , not that Lance wasn’t big but the difference was noticeable.

“You okay?” Shiro rasped, equally affected and barely more than halfway in.

“Shit, yes!” Keith cried, elbows buckling to the table. “Hold me down,” came the breathy request.

His upper body was pushed flush against the flat surface, a cold metal arm pinning him in place and a fist gripping him by the hair. His body rocked against the table while Shiro fucked him like he meant it. Mouth agape, Keith gasped for air. It was ecstasy. Pure bliss. And it had him experiencing a moment of rageful bitterness that Lance had kept this from him, that he’d been so hopped up with jealousy that he couldn’t just let them fuck after he’d let Lance repeatedly-

“Ah-!” Shiro went deeper and Keith’s knees threatened to give out. The majority of his weight shifting to the table, Shiro’s thick girth was almost too much. He felt drunk.

Shiro was different from Lance, alright. Rougher, stronger, less dexterous but more powerful. _So much more powerful._ Keith willed his brain to stop. It wasn’t fair to compare them like that. Shiro wasn’t Lance and Lance wasn’t Shiro.

Shiro. 

_Shiro._

“Sh-Shiro!” About to burst with the first non-solo orgasm he’d had in months, Keith’s hands clawed at the table. Cheek pressed to its surface, his wet breath misted against it as with a final fever pitch cry he was pushed to that edge, and then all at once he was shaking, trembling, heaving - coming into the hand Shiro had wrapped around him, finishing the job between his legs.

Keith’s brain and vision were fuzzy for several moments after. Coming to, panting and next to a small pool of drool, Keith wiped his mouth then reached behind him, wobbly and weak in the knees, to still Shiro’s hips.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” Easing up on all contact instantly, Shiro’s voice was wracked with concern.

Keith shook his head with a dizzy grin that was invisible to the concerned man and thunked his forehead against the table with a heavy, satisfied groan. Peeling himself from the surface, he leaned down to unlace his shoes then wrestled his pants the rest of the way off.

Turning around, Keith hopped bareass up on the table, hooked his legs around Shiro’s middle, and pulled him and his still-rigid cock in close.

“Again,” he ordered with a gleam in his eye.

Shiro didn’t have to be told twice. The nagging voice in the back of his head was silenced on the spot, and holding Keith by the thighs, he fucked him on the table, feasting his eyes on the view - of Keith writhing before him like he was in a porno, jerking himself off, pulling his shirt up, gasping and whispering about how big he was and that he was going to come again. Slack-jawed and spellbound by a side of Keith he’d only dreamt of, Shiro had to snap his eyes shut just to stay in control.

 

 

 **Missteps.**  
Waiting backstage with Lotor just before his speech, Lance was approaching nervous-wreck status. He didn’t even have to go up there with him, yet he thought he might faint. He couldn’t explain why but something just felt _off_. He couldn't put a finger on it, but certain exes being on the edge of his mind and things that may or may not be in pockets probably wasn’t helping either.

“Is it- Is it time yet?” He tugged at his collar again. It was definitely too tight.

“Just about.” Lotor replied with a stage-ready smile and not a hint of nerves in sight. They called him up over the PA a moment later. “Wait for me?” His grasp on Lance’s hand lingered as he departed. “It’s important that you hear.”

Once he was gone, Lance crouched on the floor clutching his head in his hands. He started slowly counting to ten, trying to even-out his breathing, trying to stave off the panic, trying to push a million confusing feelings out of mind and not even _think_ about putting his hand in his pocket.

He wasn’t going to look… He wasn’t going to look… He wasn’t going to look...

 

To gracious applause, Mister LSD stepped to the microphone to accept a key to the city and a token award in the shape of crystal angel wings.

_“Thank you Councilwoman Grace.”_

Adjusting the microphone, his eyes scanned the full panorama of seated guests and rolling cameras before beginning.

_“Esteemed Komar citizens and faithful supporters, I’m here tonight to be honored for my philanthropy and the tremendous accomplishment that is Sincline General. As I’m sure you all know, it takes a village and I couldn’t have done it all on my-”_

The confident smile he’d had in place all night faltered. He laughed nervously as if he’d forgotten his words, then folded the paper he was reading from.

_“You know, I had a whole speech planned, but I think there’s something else I’d rather say.”_

The room quieted to listen. He looked far too somber for a man being honored. 

_“On the ride over here tonight, I was reminded of perhaps my darkest hour. Of one of my gravest errors. A true lapse in judgement that I have been unable to confront for an inexcusable duration.”_

Backstage, Lance lifted his head from his hands to listen too. He had a sinking feeling that this speech was not going to be about his hospital.

_“And so I can’t help but to reflect more on the opposite of what we’re here to celebrate. Not accomplishments, but…”_

_“Missteps.”_

Lance’s heart started to race. 

_“Yes, missteps.”_

_“No doubt we’ve all taken them. Some of us stumble. Some of us get right back up again and go on like nothing happened. But if we’re fortunate, a misstep can cause us to correct course, can be the impetus that pulls us from a rut, can act as the catalyst that compels us to better evaluate our actions, our decisions, and even our entire trajectory”_

Mister LSD bowed his head reflectively.

_“My history, my past, my Galra heritage is no secret. I have not led a perfect life. But it is my missteps, particularly those against the ones I hold dearest, that have given me greatest pause and revealed to me what is truly important in life.”_

If absolute attention had been his intent, he’d succeeded. The audience was captivated. Not a peep nor a shuffle could be heard. And backstage, with bated breath a Garrison boy that had once wandered into Empire G was hanging on his every word.

 

_“After all, missteps can liberate us.”_

 

Still fully clothed and Keith without his bottoms, Shiro had him up against a wall. Knees hinging over elbows, Keith’s arms tightened around a familiar set of shoulders. Hands grasping, fingers digging into fabric and flesh, his head was thrown back against the wall with an unbridled moan that did Shiro in.

“K-Keith-” The frantic whisper was snuffed out against a collar bone.

 

_“They can help us figure out what is right...”_

 

Carried to the bedroom, Keith was set down in a heap on the edge of the bed. Air sucked between his teeth, his fingers in Shiro’s hair feet scuffing against the floor as a head moved up and down in his lap. With a nose brushing against his low stomach, Keith groaned and writhed against the sheets at the tight wetness enveloping him.

 

_“and what feels less so…”_

 

Heels digging into the floor, Keith came in the depths of Shiro’s throat. Chest heaving, he kissed him after and knocked their foreheads together when they broke for air. 

“God I hope you're hard again.”

 

_“...even if we cannot identify it in the moment.”_

 

Freeing themselves of any remaining articles of clothing, liplocked, they shifted back on the bed.  
Fresh condom hastily acquired, Keith brought a hand to the back of Shiro’s neck and met his gaze with hooded lids, back arching and jaw steadily dropping as Shiro filled him again.

 

_“And as much as we may come to regret them…”_

 

Gasping Shiro's name with his longtime confidant’s lips at his neck, his temple, Keith held on to the man in his arms. A hand snaked up his forearm, interlacing their fingers. Keith’s hand was pressed to the mattress, and suddenly he wasn't just letting Shiro fuck him anymore. He was letting Shiro love him. 

 

_“They are a necessity in getting us to our destination.”_

 

Mister LSD paused, at peace before his captive audience. 

_“And I truly believe, after so many missteps of my own…”_

He cast a soft smile off stage to the man for whom the impromptu speech was for. 

_“That I’ve finally found mine.”_

Beaming proudly, Mister LSD turned his attention back to the gala guests.

_“The most fortunate among us know forgiveness after our mistakes. But more fortunate still is to know a second chance. And I can tell you all tonight, that I don’t intend to waste mine.”_

_“Councilwoman Grace, citizens of the Komar District, my love waiting for me backstage- I could not be happier or more honored to be here tonight.”_

With that, Mister LSD saluted the crowd with his award and bowed to a roar of applause. 

With his jaw hanging slack, Lance was too stunned to remember to clap.

 

 

 **Aftermath.**  
Heavy breathing between two bodies in bed together evened out and gave way to light, flustered laughter.

“You have no idea- how long- I’ve wanted to do that.” Keith heaved shortly after they’d both finished. It was a weight off his shoulders just to admit it.

“I might be able to fathom it.” Short of breath himself, Shiro firmly kissed his forehead then collapsed against him.

Laughing again, Keith pulled his hands down Shiro’s back, exploring the unfamiliar topography beneath his fingertips. His arms loosened when Shiro shifted to pull out of him.

“You sure you’re good with just five?” The man on top asked smugly as he rolled off him.

“Don't play high score with me.” Keith let him know it wasn’t cute.

“Sorry, I just wanna give you the best.” Shiro grinned confidently while he disposed of the condom in a wad of tissues on the nightstand.

“Well, this is the best sex I've had with you. The first and the best.” He parroted Lance’s words. 

Spite tasted toxic in his mouth.

“Hey, come here.” Shiro’s arms came around him again, melting away some of the sour feelings. Nestled against a collarbone, Keith took comfort in them. It had been ages since he'd been held like that - like he was never going to be let go.

They lay like that for a while. In silence. But it didn’t feel like anything needed to be said. Shiro’s arms felt different. Not a bad different but not necessarily a good one either. Just… different. 

“What?” Keith snickered at the way Shiro was looking at him.

“Nothing. I'm just- I'm really happy right now.” Metal fingers brushed dark locks back from the face beneath them.

“Yeah?” Keith giggled softly. “I’m glad.”

Legs still intertwined, Shiro rolled on top of Keith and propped himself up at arms-length so he could look at him. His eyes turned soft in the dark.

“Keith, I probably shouldn’t...” He hesitated then shook his head like he couldn't keep the words in if he tried. “I love you.”

Smiling up at him in the dark, surprised but also not, Keith brushed a thumb across his cheek.

“I know you do.”

Shiro snorted at the very-Keith-like response then dropped his forehead against Keith’s chest with a happy sigh. “But seriously, I’m not gonna be able to keep up with you at this rate!”

Keith chuckled smugly. “Yeah, Lance learned to stop trying to keep up with me years ago.” His bravado was cut short by a sharp intake of breath.

_Lance..._

A different expression began to creep over his features, one of panic, remorse, maybe even regret as the reality of it all came crashing down around him.

“Oh, god...” He clasped a hand over his mouth, in danger of letting a voiced sob slip out. He’d known going in what he was doing. The one thing that would damn any chance of a reconciliation… The one thing Lance would never forgive... He’d known and yet it didn’t make the reality of seeing that last shred of hope vanish on the wind any less painful. 

“Aw, Keith.” Shiro’s brow crested. He pulled the distraught man close. “It’s okay to miss him. It’s okay to grieve.”

A single sob escaping him, Keith threw his face in his hands and trembled in Shiro’s arms. 

It was over. Lance was never coming back to him now.

 

 

 **Backstage.**  
Fresh off the stage and bolstered by the audience’s reception, Lotor’s eyes searched for Lance backstage.

“There you are.” His face lit up when he spotted him. 

Looking a little worse for wear, Lance waited while Lotor crossed the room to him.

“You didn’t tell me you were getting an award.” He sounded a little miffed about it.

“You’re the real prize tonight.” Softly thumbing his chin, Lotor kissed him smoothly.

But Lance cut it short. 

“Hey, can we go outside for a second? I really need some air.”

“I’ve got to do more interviews.” Lotor sighed, spying the reporters that were already circling. “Stand by my side?”

Encouraged by a gentle squeeze of his hand, Lance did his best to fake a smile and play the role of a dutiful partner, all the while the thudding of his heart steadily grew. All the while his frazzled eyes swept through the soirée going on around him, recognizing for the first time just how _wrong_ it felt. All the while a thumb ran circles in this pocket. Something that had gone ignored - had lain dormant in him - for months stirred. A part of his psyche that had been forcefully silenced, put to sleep beneath layers of indignation and stubbornness twitched with fresh life. A part of him that was finally on the cusp of waking up...

And with a steadily-mounting ringing in his ears, Lance could hear it screaming.

 

 

 **GTFO.**  
Fully clothed and back in the living room, Keith stepped into his shoes and used his index finger to pull the back of it over his heel.

“You know, you don’t have to go.” In only his sweatpants, Shiro leaned against the living room wall trying not to look fretful.

“It's not fair of me to sit here and cry about him to you.” A second sneaker was slipped over a heel. 

“It is absolutely fair. Hey-” Stepping off the wall, Shiro caught Keith’s hand and ran his thumb over his knuckles. 

Keith gently squeezed his fingers then let them go.

“I need to get Red home.” It was the worst but only excuse he could think of. He collected her from where she was curled up in the corner and fastened a leash to her collar. 

“Keith… Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” 

The remorse on Shiro’s voice just made Keith hate himself all the more. 

“I’ll be fine.” He felt Shiro’s eyes on him as he crossed the room but didn’t look up to meet them.

“Shiro…” Keith delayed when he got to the door and chanced lifting his eyes to the other man. “Thank you, I think.”

Shiro visibly tried not to wince. 

Keith left before it got any more awkward.

 

 

 **Shiro, alone.**  
Alone again as he’d expected to be the entire night, Shiro lay on the bed staring at the ceiling, a mixture of emotions playing over his face. A flicker of a smile battled with worry and guilt before disbelief and joy burst forth again overruling all other emotional states.

‘Wow,’ he whispered under his breath.

He’d finally been with Keith. 

And even if it hadn’t been flawless - _thank you, I think?_ \- there were parts of it he was going to cherish forever. Still a little floaty from the evening, his brain fixated on the happier parts.

Grinning in the dark, he reached for his phone.

S: Matt…  
S: I kissed the boy

M: !!!!  
M: omg???

S: ...and then some

M: aksjdskdgakshkdfgh  
M: well? how was it? *smirk*

S: *drooly face*

M: commander… do go on.

S: Nah, I don’t kiss and tell.

M: and yet you literally just…  
M: ahhh whatever. i’m happy for you Takashi

S: The thing is… He cried after.

M: damn, i know you’re good and all but humble brag much?

S: Shut up! That’s not why.  
S: He was upset.

M: oh  
M: Lance, huh?

S: Yeah…  
S: It was bad, Matt. I think I did the wrong thing again.

M: that boy has been dancing around you forever  
M: this was so overdue

S: I know but it was my job to stop it from happening.  
S: It was my job not to mess up again.  
S: I’m supposed to be the responsible one!

M: -__-  
M: T, i say this with all the love in my heart  
M: but the jig is up  
M: you have NEVER been the responsible one

Shiro groaned and rolled his head back to look at the ceiling, knowing that Matt was right.

S: I try to be…

M: i know you do, T  
M: and far be it from me to try to stop TAKASHI SHIROGANE from trying to be a better version of himself  
M: but i’ll always love you exactly as you are  
M: even when you are a *complete* disaster

The light from his phone illuminated a feeble smile. Shiro sent a heart back. 

He lay in darkness after, waxing guilty as he came down from the high of the night. There was a lot to reflect on.

 

 

 **My Everything.**  
Back home and in his coziest pajamas, Keith sat curled up on his bedroom floor leaning against Red, the pair of them buried under a fuzzy blue blanket that had been Lance’s favorite. With near-vacant eyes, Keith flipped through a photo album.

 _The First Twenty-Five Years._

Their past. 

Every picture a dagger in his heart.

His wrist dropped limply with the each page. Too soon, he reached the final one. 

A story cut short.

With a heavy sigh, he set it aside and lifted the second album - _The Next Twenty-Five_ Years - into his lap and leafed through it in fast succession.

Every page, blank. 

A future unwritten. 

A future lost.

From his depths he ached for Lance. For his former relationship. For the life they’d had together. A life that was just getting started. Keith flipped backwards through the empty pages as if it would somehow turn back time. Take him back to the beginning. Undo everything he'd done wrong. Let him try it all again, knowing what he knew now.

The heavy cover fell shut with a _thwump_ when he ran out of pages to reverse.

He could have gotten laid anywhere. Why… _Why_ had he gone to Shiro? As a spiteful _fuck you_ to Lance and his newfound happiness? Because Allura had nudged him in that direction? Because he loved Shiro, had all along?

No...

It had been so he could finally let go.

Desperately clinging to a shred of hope that had long-since expired only he’d been too stupid, too stubborn to admit it, now he _had_ to move on. What other choice was there? Besides… Lance clearly had.

By his actions that night, Keith had set himself free.

Not of his guilt or his sorrow but of the situation, of the vicious cycle. So much energy and anxiety spent avoiding, sidestepping, and hemming and hawing around Shiro and what it would mean for him and Lance if he ever acted upon what was little more than a fleeting thought…  
So much effort expended to protect and preserve the last dregs of hope that he and Lance could still somehow come out of this okay… So much invested emotion and incurred pain that it was a daily battle just to keep his head above water… And all for what? The fading shadow of a chance that he could make it right? That they could still go back? Instead he’d run headfirst into the flames. Allura had been right, he’d needed to take action in order to figure it out. And now that it was out of his system, with a clearer head, he saw things for what they were.

The truth of it was there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to get Lance back. Not when he was happy with someone else. Who was he in comparison to Galra royalty? The darling of the city with every resource - and their full history - at his disposal. What power did he have against a calculating wolf in sheep’s clothing who was masquerading in a fabricated relationship that was - by design - curated to make Lance fall? It wasn’t worth the heartbreak. Not when there wasn’t a shadow of a doubt in Keith’s mind that he’d been forgotten.

Now he’d severed things on his end too.

Against his better judgement, Keith opened the card attached to the gift bag the photo albums had come in. A pink cartoon hippo blowing a party horn that pulled a pained smile out of him was on the cover and a block of carefully scripted, hand-written text filled the inside.

_To my future Mr. McClain-_

That was as far as he got. 

Weathering the wave of heartache that tore through his insides, he tucked the card away in the second photo album. He’d forfeited the right to read it anyways.

Unable to summon the strength to stand upright, Keith crawled into bed on hand and knee and coaxed Red up onto it with him. Settling in, he hugged his dog around the middle and pulled Lance’s blanket tightly around the both of them. He balled up next to her his face in her fur, preparing to cry himself to sleep. But strangely, hollow though he was, Keith found that he had no tears left to cry.

Fishing his phone off his nightstand in the dark, he typed a final message - his last goodbye - to his ex who he still loved with all his heart.

_You were my everything. I'm so sorry._

He didn’t send it.

 

 

 **The ******  
Lance had tried his damndest to buy into the night but it just wasn’t working anymore. 

On the edge of being gripped by a panic that had been threatening to dismantle him all evening, he locked himself inside a single-stalled bathroom somewhere in the event space’s lobby and heaved on the other side of the door. Teenage fantasies be damned, this wasn’t what he wanted! Yanking his tie loose, he ripped open the collar that had been choking him all night and fought the urge to rid himself of the suit entirely. He wanted to get out of there, get as far away from that night - and from Lotor - as he could. Everything was always on such a grand scale with that guy. He would have been happy with a simple dinner date and walking hand-in-hand under streetlights. But this? It was too much!

The intensity of the emotional flare fading, he slumped against the door, riddled with guilt for his ingratitude. It wasn’t fair. Lotor had given him so much... He’d come out for him, he’d showcased their affections without so much as batting an eye at the possible ramifications, he’d even made a whole speech for him and everything. And after what he’d said in the car and to how many cameras that night it appeared that he might even... love him?

A fresh wave of panic threatened to take him out of reality. He rushed to the sink, gripping it at is edges for fear he wasn’t going to be able to stay on his feet.

Seeking any shred of comfort, any escape from his predicament, Lance’s hand dove into his pocket and yanked out the smattering of items inside. Blindly, he sifted through them, letting some of the spare change and lint drop to the floor. He flung the packet of lube towards the trashcan in the corner, not bothering to check if his aim had been true. 

Down to one item that remained hidden in his clenched fist, Lance steadied his ragged breath and slowly began to loosen his grip.

He knew it before his fingers had even unfurled. He’d known it the second he’d seen it roll behind the toilet but he hadn’t let it sink in until that exact moment. Hopes and dreams long thought drowned hanging in the balance, with a final gulp, Lance opened his hand.

“Darling, are you alright in there?” A voice came through the door. 

Nearly jumping out of his skin, Lance snapped his fingers shut again. 

“Y-Yeah, I just- I just need a second.” He shied away from the door cradling his fist to his chest and wondered if the shake in his voice carried through wood.

“Shall I wait for you?”

“NO!” He was quick to answer. “I mean, no. I’ll find you later.” 

“Darling…” Lotor’s voice was soft. “You were wonderful out there. They loved you. Absolutely _loved_ you. And you must know by now that I also...”

Lance’s panic hit catastrophic levels for what he feared was coming next. His heart pounding in his chest was about to break free of his ribs. It had him praying for mercy, praying for _not now._

“I know I’m not always the most direct,” Lotor went on. “But this time I will be. I cannot begin to tell you the impact you’ve had on my life. You make me want to be _better_ , Lance. You really do. I suppose this is a long-winded way of saying that, darling, I-”

A fist tightened against his chest. The fringes of Lance’s vision began to swim.

“I am so utterly besotted with you. I love you, Lance. I have for a long time. I want you to know that.”

Strangely, that took Lance’s panic down a few notches. His expression even softened at the man on the other side of the door, though it was more with sympathy than returned affection.

“Lance, darling?”

“O-Okay. Thank you?” Lance cringed at himself.

“You’re as adorable as ever.” The man on the other side of the door chuckled.

When his receding footsteps had faded, Lance’s eyes snapped back to the object that until moments ago had been concealed not only in his fist, but in a part of his heart that he’d refused to acknowledge. But it had never left him. It had been with him all along, endeavoring, biding its time, waiting patiently to be rediscovered. Lance raked his fingers through his hair, butchering its styling, awestruck and without a _clue_ as to what he was going to do.

Breathless, aghast, at a loss for anything that even resembled words, he gaped at what lay in the palm of his hand.

 

Lance was holding…

 

The ring.

  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And from chapter 5, I quote…
>
>> "His arm fell slack, the **open ring box** dangling at his side ... ... Lance snapped [it] shut and clenched it tightly in his fist. He meant to drop it into **the open backpack waiting just below his hand** ... With a fiercely cathartic cry ... he hurled the **velvet box** with all his might in the direction of the setting sun.”
> 
> Y’all really thought I let that ring I spent an ENTIRE FIC building up go into the ocean? REALLY?? Nah, I can totally understand why you thought that. I have been _very_ sneaky and sitting on that one for a while. Lance didn't know it was in his backpack either.
> 
> Good job to those of you who picked Keith, in the ‘Who dun it?’ [ Twitter poll](https://twitter.com/enjayas_writes/status/1072727660437024768). And yes, the "crime" was sleeping was Shiro.
> 
> Sooooo where we at...  
> Ch 05 → Keith and Lance break up  
> Ch 10 → Lance is with Lotor  
> Ch 15 → Keith is with Shiro  
> Ch 20(ish) → ???
> 
> Nice. We are perfectly on schedule. 
> 
> Breakups are the worst and timing is a bitch. Thank you all for sticking with this story and weathering the storm with them. 
> 
> Next Chapter: **Loyalty**


	17. Loyalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lotor realizes he’s not as in control of his organization as he thought. What lengths will he go to to restore order and absolute obedience in his ranks?
> 
>  **In this chapter:**  
>  \- Loyalties are tested.  
> \- Broken hearts move on.  
> \- True colors are revealed.  
> \- Bodies hit the floor.
> 
> And, amidst all the chaos, the message is received.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is _long_. It’s broken into two parts in case you need to take a break. Feel free to comment in between as I suspect you won’t remember much from Part I once you’re invested in Part II. On a happier note, there’s a lot of Lance in this update! Enjoy! 0:)
> 
> Thanks again to theashesofthefirststar for proving early feedback!
> 
>  **Ship warnings:** Nothing you’ll need to skip.
> 
>  **General warnings:** Violence. A pretty graphic death. Coersion.

  


###  **Part I**

  


**Lance.**  
Still in bed even though morning would soon shift to afternoon, Lance lay curled up in a cozy cocoon of feather-soft duvets and linens with a single limb protruding from the mountain of blankets so he could gaze in awe at a small circular object held delicately between his thumb and forefinger.

A ring.

 _Keith’s_ ring.

Somehow, in a miracle that very nearly reinvigorated Lance’s belief in acts of fate, it had come back to him. When he’d been at the cliffside all those months ago prepared to throw it and everything it represented away forever, the ring had slipped from it’s velvet box and unbeknownst to anyone, let alone him, landed in his backpack. A buried secret, a time capsule of hopes and precious feelings, a hidden treasure to be discovered later.

And discover it he finally had.

Still in disbelief, he turned the fateful circle back and forth in front of the light coming through the sheer curtains. The small flecks of metal embedded in the swirls of red and blue scintillated spectacularly in a way that was every bit as mesmerizing as he remembered. He could look at it for hours and had spent many in the days since the Gala doing so. Thinking. Reconsidering. Second-guessing decisions he had made in anger, in hurt.

He was alone in the bedroom. Lotor had left hours ago. Lance had intentionally slept in long enough to miss him and had grunted sleepily and squirmed away when long hair had tickled his skin as the man tried to kiss his forehead. 

He hadn't really been asleep though. 

Sifting free of a mild guilt over the deception, his eyes refocused on the metal band that brought a smile to his lips and unleashed a flutter beneath his ribs. He felt like he needed to pinch himself to believe it was true. That it was really right before his eyes and not sunken at the bottom of the ocean. That, even though it had never really left him, it had come back to him all the same.

He slipped it back on a gold chain he’d been keeping it on and pressed his lips to the cool metal before sliding the necklace safely over his head. Pressing it against his skin where it hung naturally just above his heart he felt more whole than he had in months. Lance’s brow knitted. He turned onto his side and stared fearfully at the far-off wall, wondering, worrying what it meant for him and Lotor.

There’d been a distance between them since words had been exchanged at the Gala. Words he hadn’t been ready to hear. They hadn’t talked about it yet and were both avoiding the subject for now, pretending that everything was as it had always been.

But it wasn’t. And Lance was worried just how long that charade could last before one of them cracked. Even more worrying was what might slip out of his mouth if they _did_ talk about it.

Lance wasn't saying he was about to up and leave. He was just rethinking things. A lot if things. He’d fallen in pretty fast with Lotor and though it was not an uncomfortable life, realistically what kind of future did they have? Would they just continue to live in that hotel suite and become a Galra power couple, a socialite spectacle known for charity and benevolence? Would he eventually put that ring or a different one on Lotor’s finger? Neither really made sense to him.

But it wasn't like he could go running back to Keith either. For starters, Lance hadn’t fully forgiven him. Hadn’t even been able to fathom the idea of it. Yet now there was a new, confusing emotion brewing inside him, one that really wanted to. But after shutting Keith out for months on end and being pretty horrible to him the last few times they'd happened to cross paths, he wasn't exactly expecting to be welcomed back with open arms. 

And who was to say those arms weren’t already occupied by someone else? 

Someone whose name might be... 

Shiro.

A fist clenched around the ring. Lance drew a harrowed breath and dragged his fingers through his disheveled morning hair. The thought alone made his stomach turn. Riding the wave of nausea, he shifted onto his back to stare at the ceiling. If that was the case, what right did he have to take Keith away from perfection? After all, who in their right mind wouldn’t pick Shiro over him?

Still, a nagging part of him remained, and that part was itching to call Keith. Just to hear what he had to say. After months of not being able to see past his anger and being too shut down to even conceive of the very notion, Lance was finally willing to at least listen.

Was that all it would take? For everything to go back to normal? To get his old life back? To get… Keith back? 

The trepidation those questions conjured reflected in the worrying of his brow. Wiggling himself partway out of his swaddle, Lance lifted his phone off the nightstand. He pulled up Keith’s contact info and let his thumb hover dangerously over the call button.

The device fell to the mattress with a forlorn sigh. The side of Lance’s upper body landed next to it. 

If only it could be that simple.

On his side with his neck at an odd angle, Lance begrudgingly shifted his attention to the wealth of notifications he’d been ignoring. His phone had been blowing up since his on-air appearance with Lotor.

Esther: *clap* *clap* *clap*  
Esther: get it Lance!!

Hunk: Dude! We saw you on TV!!!  
Hunk: Holy shit tho… Is that the guy you wanted to bring to the wedding??  
Hunk: I’m starting to be relieved it got rescheduled!

Pidge: nice hair, dork  
Pidge: btw Maria says your bf looks like he fell out of a bad 90s shojo

Allura: Lance, it’s been ages since we caught up. Are you doing alright?  
Allura: Let’s hang out soon!

They’d all clearly seen it. Lance fretted, wondering if that meant Keith had seen it too. He hadn’t texted. Neither had Shiro. Then again, why would they?

Just as he was getting worked up again, his phone screen lit up with a call that sent his stomach plummeting. He sat up fast. It had to be a coincidence. There was no way news of his and Lotor’s little escapade had reached _that_ far. 

But he had to answer it. There would only be more hell to pay if he didn’t.

With a heavy gulp, Lance pressed the phone to his ear.

“H-Hi Mama…”

It was one thing to ignore his friends, he couldn’t ignore his own mother.

“LANCE ALEJO JUAN ESTEBAN MCCLAIN.”

Lance balked away from the device and swore under his breath. 

“WHO IS THIS MAN YOU’RE ON TV WITH?!” 

He heard the rest of the exclamation with the phone several feet away from his head.

“Ah, jeez…” Lance sheepishly brought it back to his ear. “I was hoping you wouldn’t see that...”

“Blame your brother Marco, but, ay Lance, who is he? Is he a candy dad?”

“A what?”

“VERONICA, WHAT DID YOU CALL THE SHINY MAN ON TV?” There was a pause. “YES, THE ONE WITH LANCE.”

 _“A sugar daddy!”_ A far-off female voice shouted back sending Lance’s insides reeling.

“Veronica, _no!_ Ma, don't listen to her! He’s just- He’s just this guy I’m seeing.” Lance picked his other ear nervously. “It’s not even serious or anything like that.” He lied. Was that a lie? He didn’t know anymore.

“Baby, what happened to Keith? I thought you were going to patch things up after the holidays?”

“Yeah, well that didn’t exactly happen.” Lance sulked.

“Tch, such a shame. We always liked him.”

“Dad did not like him!” Lance pointed out a little too bitterly.

“Well, you know how your father gets. But Keith... He was a sweet boy.”

“Yeah. He was.” Lance smiled sadly.

His mother sighed into the receiver.

“Well, when do we get to meet this fancy man you’re seeing? Really Lance, you parade around with him on TV but don’t introduce him to your family?” She tutted her tongue. “That’s not how I raised you.”

“Whoa, whoa… It’s not like that.” Lance shut down any _ideas_ she was getting about meeting his new beau anytime soon. “We’re taking things slow.”

“That’s not how it looked when you were ON TV WITH HIM!”

“Ma! The media is misleading!” Lance kicked his legs against the bed in frustration. And then another scenario popped into his head that turned his frustration into foreboding. “Wait, did- did Dad see too?” His voice softened with worry.

She got quiet. 

“Mama?”

“No. We specifically did not show your father.”

Lance heaved with relief. “Please don’t tell him, okay? Not yet. And tell Marco and Veronica to mind their own business!”

“Tell them yourself!” She waxed angry. “Lance, we barely hear from you. You never call home anymore. Your poor Mama is worried sick!”

“I know, I’m sorry. I’ve been kind of out of it lately.”

“Busy with the shiny man, no doubt.” She teased making Lance groan. “Do you love him, my baby? Do you love this shiny man like you loved Keith?”

“Jeez, Mom! Don’t ask me that!” Lance flopped onto his stomach and mashed his face into a pillow. “I can’t compare them! Besides, Keith was… special. Really special.” He thumbed the ring around his neck.

“Oh, baby…” She sighed sympathetically. “Be happy, okay? And call home more!”

“Okay. Love you, Mom.”

He hung up then plopped his face in the pillow again. He was going to kill Marco next time he saw him. He never thought Komar district news would make it as far as Miami. What the hell had he been thinking putting his personal life out there like that when he had the nosiest family _ever?_ He pulled the duvet over his head and balled up in embarrassment. He had not thought that one through. 

But the probing questions from his mother and everything else he’d been mulling over since the Gala were pushing him to action. He knew what he had to do. 

Sloughing the covers off and peeling himself from the bed, he threw on a shirt and ventured into the main room of the suite looking for Lotor. As much as he wanted to call Keith, as much as he wanted to explore the possibility of giving him another chance, Lance wanted to do it right. He needed to talk to Lotor first.

 

Sunday was often a day off for the generals and so the hotel suite was deserted. Or so it seemed. He found Narti squatting in a corner fitting a new collar on Kova, who was none too pleased about it. The silent general jumped a little when she saw him.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” Lance joined her on the floor and put his hand out for the cat to sniff his fingers before petting her. She rubbed against Lance’s wrist, happy for the gentler touch.

Narti’s dark, sunken eyes watched him from beneath her hood. Distracted by something shiny, they snapped downwards and widened with recognition. Her hand flailed, gesturing wildly and pointing at the ring around Lance’s neck.

“Huh? Oh, this? Pretty, right?” Lance smiled.

 _You should show it to Lotor. I bet he’d think so to._ Narti typed excitedly into her phone with a sinister grin.

Lance laughed feebly and tucked the ring into his shirt to hide it from view. 

“Actually, do you know where he is? I really need to talk to him.”

She typed a single word in reply.

_Hospital._

 

Sincline General.

He’d still never been inside. Mostly because it was in a part of the Komar District Lance would rather forget. He bristled as he passed a rusted out bus stop he’d once frequented that had yet be removed to match the rest of the gentrified neighborhood, and his skin prickled even more as he climbed the steps of what had formerly been Empire G. It was an odd twist of fate coming there to find Lotor again after so many years. An odder twist still, his reason why.

He was nervous walking down the halls of Sincline General and not for the reasons one normally is when at a hospital. For starters, people were looking at him and whispering. They knew who he was. And second, were there rules about ending relationships in such places? It wasn’t like Lotor was a patient so maybe it was okay? Lance tried his best to rationalize. With every step though, he was less and less sure he was going to be able to go through with it. 

He wandered for some time. Built on an area bigger than a city block, the place was a maze, and Lance had no idea where he was going. An orderly by the name Nakia took pity on him and asked if he was lost.

“Follow me, Lance. I think I know who you’re looking for.” She smiled knowingly.

“Y-You know my name.” He flustered. 

“Yeah, I do.” She cringed, a little embarrassed.

Lance rolled with it.

Nakia was short and looked young, younger than Lance. Her auburn hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she carried a clipboard with some sort of checklist. While they walked she talked Lance’s ear off about her college roommate who was under the hospitals care waiting for a transplant and how Mister LSD’s generosity had inspired her to give back too. She volunteered on weekends, she announced and grinned proudly holding up her clipboard.

It was hard for Lance to hear considering what he’d come there to do. The rules on ending things in a hospital may be fuzzy but he was pretty sure dumping someone who was a goddamn golden human being automatically qualified you as an asshole.

Nakia led him down a bright hallway where they stopped outside a ward with a half-dozen beds separated by privacy curtains. A corner of the large room that served as a play area was piled high with toys and colorful objects. Peering through the observation window, Lance’s eyes fell on the man he’d come to see.

Lotor, a chain of daisies draped atop his silver locks, sat hunched in a chair far too small for him surrounded by a gaggle of young girls with matching flower crowns of their own. He was pretending to have tea with three of them and an oversized teddy bear in a top hat while two others were giggling and playing with his hair. 

Lance had to rub his eyes to make sure he wasn’t seeing things then promptly snickered at the sight of a ruthless gang leader having a _tea party_. Lance would be a liar though if he said he wasn’t soft for it. 

“He comes here every Sunday to play with the kids.” Nakia informed him.

“Really?” Lance was surprised to hear.

“Mmhm!” She nodded cheerily. “Word is he hasn’t missed a weekend since the place opened.” 

Lance was impressed. Even more so that Lotor had never mentioned it. He’d always assumed he was off on sketchy gang business when he disappeared.

“And the kids really love him,” Nakia went on. “The little ones call him Uncle Lotty.”

 _Uncle Lotty._ Lance bit back a snort. It was pillow-punching cute. 

It suddenly occurred to Lance that what he’d come there to do was going to be a lot harder than he’d realized. Feelings for Keith may have resurfaced, but it wasn’t like he didn’t have _any_ feelings for Lotor. And goddammit he could be a sweetheart.

Nakia smiled knowingly at the lovelorn look on Lance’s face and let him into the room with a wink before returning to her volunteer duties.

Lotor lit up with surprise and delight when he saw who had arrived. Lance waved back shyly. 

“Uncle Lotty! Can I braid your hair?” A small girl attached to an IV pump and pole asked while the other children were escorted back to their beds.

“Go on then,” Lotor prompted, sweeping a free lock towards her.

Lance bit his thumb. It damn near broke his heart. By the way she braided his hair and clipped in small barrettes while Lotor pretended to pour tea for her teddy bear, you’d never have guessed she was sick.

When the girl was pulled away by her nurses, Lance wandered over and waited while her parents profusely thanked the famed Mister LSD. He made out the words ‘guardian angel’ and ‘heaven-sent’ while the mother hugged him.

“A guardian angel, huh?” Lance said once they were alone in the corner. It came out flirtier than he meant it to. 

“People call you all sorts of things when you impact the lives of their children.” A little smug, Lotor sipped a pumpkin spice latte. Lance could smell the flavoring from his cup. “I’m glad to see you,” Lotor continued more humbly. “I was starting to think you were avoiding me.” His inquiring eyes fell on Lance again.

“Yeah, about that… Can we talk somewhere? Maybe not here.”

“This is where it all started, you know.” Lotor looked around fondly. “Where you first came to see me.” 

Lance cleared his throat. It was something he’d been trying not to think about.

“Well not this exact spot. I can show you that later, but I like to think I’ve turned this place into something _better_.” Lotor beamed with pride.

Lance found it a hard point to contend with and was growing increasingly distressed by the loving gaze being thrown his way.

“I’ve missed you.” Lotor caught him by the hand and pulled him close.

“It’s only been a few days,” Lance protested, turning his cheek away and denying him a kiss. 

“Four days.” Lotor remained persistent.

“Three and a half,” Lance corrected. “And stop, not in front of the kids.” Several of the tea party attendees were peering around the curtains to spy on them.

“Why not? They seem to be in support of it.”

The children in the room were giggling freely at the display.

Lance considered the man before him - the man he’d come to end things with but who now had him second-guessing his motives for being there. Eyes going soft, Lance’s fingers traced down a crooked braid next to his face then delicately touched one of the daisies in his flower crown with an amused twitch of his lip. Before he could stop himself, he was lost in the affectionate crystal blue eyes that seemed to burn only for him. Caught up in the moment, Lance found himself relenting. He let Lotor kiss him. His lips twitched into a smile at the softness of his lips. He hadn’t felt them in days and he tasted sweet. Like his latte. Lance deepened their kiss, wondering how it was that Lotor managed to suck him back in every single time.

Shrieks and a chorus of ‘ewwww’s reminded them they weren’t alone. 

“Now, now. You won’t be saying that when your older.” Lotor scolded next to a mortified Lance.

 

“Okay, seriously, we need to talk.” Lance resolved to get back on track after they’d retreated to a more private, unoccupied room.

“About what, darling?” Lotor asked as he began removing the flowers and barrettes from his hair.

“I, um…” Lance’s tongue felt thick in his mouth and he was instantly more aware of his heart pounding in his chest. “Oh boy, this is hard.” Everything he wanted to say sounded so cliche.

“Do you want children, Lance?” Lotor posed the question while straightening the last of the braids out of his hair.

“I... What?” That was so far off the topic he’d come to discuss. “D-Do you?” He returned the question suspiciously. Lotor had never seemed the type until…

Lotor’s visage saddened.

“As the progeny of gang leaders myself, I can tell you it’s no environment to raise a child. I suppose this-” He gestured in the direction of the colorful room and nursery they’d come from. “-is my way of living out that experience. I know they’re safe here. But you didn’t answer my question.” He pouted flirtily. “Do you want a family?”

“I- I did…” Lance recalled, but that had been in a very different context.

“Do you still?”

“I don’t know. I don’t really know what I want anymore. That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.”

The smile vanished from Lotor’s face and replaced with a reluctance. “It was too much, the other night, wasn’t it?”

“It was kind of a lot, yeah.” The admission was made with reluctance but also relief.  
“Maybe we can just slow down a little?” Lance suggested, having reneged on his plan of a full-blown breakup.

“Slow down?” Lotor laughed but seemed displeased. “Slow down how? You already live with me. We’re practically marri-”

“AH- AH- DON’T!” Lance threw up his hands to shut him up. “Let’s just take declarations of love and things like the M word off the table for now.” It had been annoying enough dealing with reporters trying to badger a sound byte implying matrimony out of him and there were insinuations from the media that were practically forcing them down the aisle already.

An awkward silence followed. 

“I see…” Troubled understanding spread over Lotor’s features. “Your feelings don’t run as deep.”

“That’s not what I said.” Lance backpedaled.

“I should have figured when you didn’t say it back.” Lotor folded his arms and slumped against the bright yellow wall.

“You said it through a door! _While I was in the bathroom!”_ Lance defended himself. “I could have been shitting!”

“Darling, don’t be crass.” Lotor made a face.

“Look, it’s not that I don’t…” Lance wrang his hands nervously. “I mean, I obviously have feelings for you. That just- It wasn’t the right moment for me.” Lance settled on that explanation. His eyes asked for understanding.

Lotor looked back at him eagerly, expectantly.

“Now isn’t either!” Lance held firm.

Lotor huffed and searched him a long moment. So long that Lance’s palms began to sweat. 

Finally the hard look fell away.

“Alright.” Lotor uttered softly. “I can wait until you’re ready.” He took Lance’s hand and gave it a little squeeze with a patient smile. “It will be worth it.”

“Thank you.” Lance heaved with relief.

 

They headed back to the hotel suite where the generals were waiting. Lance was still conflicted but at least Lotor was in better spirits and the distance between them had lessened. Plus, he’d bought himself some time to properly figure things out. 

Having by all accounts made-up, the Garrison Boy and Mister LSD were back to their flirty ways. Lotor even helped him take his jacket off like a proper gentleman when they arrived home. Giggling, Lance played into the gesture and spun in a full circle to take his arms out of the coat.

The ring around his neck came into view as the jacket fell away.

Ezor saw it first and gasped loudly.

“LANCE, WHAT ARE YOU-” Acxa's hand clamped over her surprised colleague’s mouth. She’d seen it too. 

Zethrid was clued in and the three generals watched as Lance turned to their leader ready to throw his arms over his shoulders and fall into a kiss.

“What’s this?” Lotor made a grab for what was between them instead.

“Ah, it’s nothing. Family heirloom.” Mildly flustered, Lance plucked it back from his fingers.

“Well, take it off.” Lotor demanded and moved to remove the chain around his neck.

“What? No!” Lance backed away holding the ring hanging from it.

“If it’s a ring you want, I’ll buy you a new one.” A vice-like grip seized Lance’s arm and the chain was again reached for.

“Stop. I don’t want a new one! It’s just a ring, chill out already!” Lance tried to tear free of his grasp.

Danger flashed in the man’s eyes but it was quickly contained.

“Of course. My mistake.” He let go at once. “After all, it’s just a worthless trinket. Do what you like with it.” He scooped up his cat from the closest sofa and disappeared into one of the side rooms, slamming the door behind him.

“Jeez, what crawled up his butt all of a sudden?” Lance looked to Ezor for reassurance. 

Her eyes were wide and fearful. She opened her mouth to speak but Acxa grabbed her by the arm before she could get a word out.

“Ezor, the conference room. _Now!_ You too Zethrid.” The three generals vanished into the mission planning room.

 

“Oh, shit! Oh, shit! Oh, _SHIT!_ He’s wearing his ex’s ring! The one they were going to get engaged with!” Ezor gasped in a panicked whisper.

“Is that what that was?” Zethrid grunted, barely interested.

“Yes! We were tailing him the day he bought it! Don’t you remember? _It has blue and red colors swirling together with these little metal flecks that look like the stars._ That’s what he said to his bangin’ hot bestie he was with!” She was met with blank stares. “Ya know, the British bombshell with the hair? _Seriously?_ ”

Zethrid shrugged, apathetic, while the first-in-command rolled her eyes at her perpetually thirsty comrade.

“Ugh. This is really bad.” Ezor put her head in her hands. “Lotor knows what that ring is but Lance doesn’t know that he knows! And Lotor can’t let on that he knows because then Lance will know that there’s _more_ that he knows! And Lotor knows that _we_ know that he knows and that Lance doesn’t know that he knows and what will happen if Lance finds out that we know that he knows that he knows that- 

“EZOR.” Acxa slapped her out of it.

“Sorry.” She came to her senses and looked up at her first-in-command. “Acxa... We have to tell him.”

“We will absolutely do no such thing.”

“I’m out,” Zethrid declared. “I don’t want any part in this drama. I’m just here to get paid.” She threw up her hands and excused herself from the room.

“Ezor, you listen to me.” Acxa turned to her underling, prepared to use any intimidation tactic necessary. “Don’t you _dare_ go telling Lance that we know what that ring is.”

“But-”

“It’s only going to lead to questions. How do you think Lance would feel if he knew we helped Lotor stalk him? That we had a hand in sabotaging his relationship? You think he’d be your best friend after that?”

Tears began welling in Ezor’s eyes.

“You need to ask yourself where your allegiance lies.” Acxa pinned her with a cutting gaze. “With Lotor, with Lance…”

“Lance is my best friend and Lotor’s like my weird dad-boss, I can’t pick between-”

“Or with me?” The first-in-command’s immaculately groomed eyebrows flicked dangerously.

Ezor was silenced on the spot.

“That’s not fair...” Ezor’s voice grew quiet in response to the low blow. “You know I’ll always pick you.”

“And I will always side with Lotor,” Acxa concluded. “So you keep your mouth _shut._ ”

Ezor’s teary eyes dimmed. Her head bowed. Coming around to acceptance, she saluted with a fist pressed against her chest and uttered a deferential _‘Vrepit Sa’._

 

 **Keith.**  
It was early afternoon in Keith’s apartment and he’d just come back from a run with Red. Still catching his breath, he took a gander around his still living room. It was weird how, living alone, nothing moved unless he moved it. Food in the fridge didn’t disappear unless he ate it. That when he stayed home the only thing that would happen is the sky would get darker. And how even then, there often wasn’t a reason to move from one room to the other. He’d still be alone when he got there.

He’d really thought it was temporary, living in that stagnant hell where the laws of entropy didn’t seem to apply. That it was just a stop-gap until Lance came home. Red lapping loudly from her water bowl and the ache slowly leaving his recently vascularized lungs filled his sensory space while he took in his new reality, the one that was still sinking in. This was it; This was his life now. This was all there was. And the saddest part of it... He was almost used to it.

Coffee maker on. Food in Red’s bowl. Meat in the slow cooker that would be done by dinner time. He was autopiloting his way through the days. It was the only way he knew how to function. At the same time though, there was less pressure to fracture his psyche. He didn’t feel like he was walking on eggshells anymore. After all, there was nothing left to fuck up.

Life went on in a post-Lance world. He knew it would, but he hadn’t expected everything to be so… the same. Same jobs, same apartment, same friends. Then again, it wasn’t like Lance had left yesterday. It had been months and tumultuous ones at that. He’d only just coming around to accept it was true. Maybe this was what coming out the other side felt like. The beginning of a new normal.

A normal that didn’t include Lance.

He pulled the pot off the coffee maker and poured himself a cup. There was a creeping guilt he was grappling with too over how much _lighter_ he felt since burning that bridge. No more nagging urgency to fix things, no more building tension that the clock was ticking, no more drive to do... anything, really. He was lighter, yes, but emptier too. 

Aimless. Floating. Struggling to find a thread with which to weave meaning.

But like the changing of the seasons, his old problems were rapidly giving way to new ones.

Like that he’d fucked Shiro. 

His _boss_ , Shiro. 

Who he hadn’t seen since.

Mostly because he hadn’t been back to the gym yet, but that was going to change later that afternoon when he was scheduled to teach back-to-back classes. Parking himself at the kitchen table, Keith stared into his steaming coffee, nervous for how that was going to go.

If raising the bar for bad decisions were a competitive sport, he’d have had a gold medal by now... He had no idea what he was going to say to him! Whatever ultimately fell out of his mouth, it couldn’t possibly be worse than _‘Thank you, I think’_. He cringed, reliving the look on Shiro’s face it had inspired.

Awkward endings aside, he now had no idea where they stood. Were they friends? Fuck buddies? Something… more? He was dreading seeing Shiro because he didn’t have an answer to that. 

Did he want to fuck Shiro again? 

Heck, yes! 

Did he think it was a good idea? 

Fuck, no! 

Aside from being his employer and one of the most influential people in his life, Shiro had some pretty deep feelings for him. It was unfair to lead him on like that when he wasn’t sure he could match them. Another part of Keith was worried that maybe he could. That what he’d brushed off as Lance’s paranoia had been on point all along.

He didn’t particularly want to think about it anymore, Lance _or_ Shiro. And so Keith installed Grindr, a hookup app with a reputation for exactly what he was looking for: Something quick, discreet, and with no strings attached. It had been in the back of his mind for a while, but as long as there’d been a chance of patching things up with Lance, Keith had been determined to stay faithful. Seeing as he’d blown that option to bits, he’d just have to find someone new to fuck.

Before he’d even put up a profile picture he got a message from a _MrRightNow._

_Hey._

_Hi…_ Keith replied cautiously.

A dick pic, and a rather unflattering one at that, arrived in the chat next. Keith raised an unimpressed eyebrow at the audacity.

_U want?_

With a sigh, Keith closed the app and thunked his forehead to the table.

Moving on sucked.

 

In addition to the daunting task of getting back out there in the dating pool, disentangling his life from Lance was proving to be more of a pain than he’d anticipated.

When checking the mail before leaving for work, Keith had discovered his rent checks from the last few months had been returned. There was a note from his landlord too. Lance, it seemed, was still paying the rent. _All_ of the rent. 

Keith was a little miffed about it. He didn’t need the help anymore. He was holding down not one but _two_ steady jobs and could stand on his own two feet thank you very much.

On the car ride to one of said jobs, he got his landlord on the phone and learned that the next six months had been paid in full as well. To add to his frustration, the guy didn’t want to deal with returning a large sum of money and refused to take his checks or any future ones he sent. Keith had half a mind to call Lance and tell him to cut that shit out. After pulling into the lot and furiously throwing his car into park, he ripped his phone out of his gym bag and seriously considered doing it.

But what if Lotor found out and took it the wrong way? What if he came after Red like he’d threatened to do?

Keith rubbed his dog’s ears in the passenger seat. Contacting Lance in any form remained off the table. It wasn’t worth the risk of incurring that psychopath’s wrath.

Clambering out of the car with Red on his heels, Keith paused outside the gym door to frantically text Pidge in the minutes he had before the class he was supposed to be teaching started.

K: Can you tell Lance he doesn’t need to pay my rent anymore?

P: wait, he’s been paying your rent?

K: I didn’t ask him to.  
K: Will you tell him?

P: tell him yourself!

K: Pidge, please? I really can’t talk to him.

P: ugh, i’ll try to mention it  
P: but i’ll have you know this is pretty pathetic  
P: almost as pathetic as him paying your rent

K: Ask him if he wants his car back too.

P: …  
P: i seriously doubt he wants that old rust bucket back when he has basically the sexiest car ever  
P: besides how will you get around?

 _I don’t know. I’ll figure it out!_ Keith was in the middle of typing when the door behind him cracked open.

“Keith? You joining us?”

Keith spun around fast.

“H-Hi.” He stammered upon finding himself eye-to-eye with Shiro. 

His boss, Shiro. 

Who he’d fucked.

“They’re ready to go in there. I got them started with warmups.” Shiro smiled like it was any other Sunday.

“Right. Yeah. Sorry.” Keith mumbled. His cheeks were entirely too warm. He hurried inside with his best coaching face in place and hoped no one in the class would notice how hard he was faking holding it together.

 

To his relief, Shiro was nothing but professional. Even though Keith knew they’d probably have to talk about it at some point, Shiro didn’t even allude to their tryst a few nights prior. There was also enough space in the sixteen hundred square foot gym for them to stay out of each other’s way, even in the time between clients and classes.

As soon as he was off the clock, Keith packed up his bag in a hurry. His aim was to get out of there before Shiro decided they _did_ need to talk about it. Not wanting to risk a confrontation, he didn’t bother saying goodbye and made a beeline for the front.

“Hey, Keith, before you go...”

Keith cursed with his hand on the door, his hopes of a quick exit smothered on the spot. Reluctantly about facing, he waited while Shiro crossed the gym to him. He looked serious, like he was gearing up for a talk which only made Keith’s heart sink further.

“Your paycheck.”

“Oh, right!” Keith snatched the envelope Shiro extended to him.

“You’re doing a great job here.” Shiro folded his arms and smiled broadly. “As your employer, I want you to know that.”

“Thanks...” Keith’s fingers strayed into his mullet, a nervous twitch that came out whenever he was bashful.

“And that’s not just lip service. I really think you could have a future in this.”

Keith’s eyes lifted to him. He’d never been told that at a job before. That he could have a future.

Shiro cleared his throat becoming less all-about-business. “I also wanted to say as your _friend…_ ” He chose his words carefully. “That whatever happens in our lives outside of this place, I’m not going to treat you any differently in here. I don’t want things to be awkward between us.”

“Yeah. Same here.” Keith managed to relax a little. At least they were on the same page about that. “And as your _friend_ too, I probably owe you an apology for how the other night ended.” He cringed a little.

Shiro waved it off like it was water under the bridge.

“You doing okay? You seemed pretty upset.”

“Yeah.” Keith put on a brave face. “I’m- I’m fine.”

“So, um…” Shiro wet his lips.

Keith stiffened. Here is was, the part he was dreading. 

“I’m thinking... Friends for now?”

Massive relief washed over Keith.

“Friends for now.” He agreed, liking the open-endedness but lack of expectations of it. For the first time in a long time, it felt like maybe they could go back to normal, or at least, fall into a new normal. “Thanks, Shiro.” Keith gestured with his paycheck. 

“Hey, you earned that.” Shiro wouldn’t accept his gratitude. “Catch you later, Coach Keith.” 

Keith cocked his head as Shiro _bro-fisted_ him on his way out.

He blinked at his hand after. Well, the new normal had arrived because they had never done _that_ before. Keith wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.

“Okay. Bye, Shiro.”

He awkwardly sidled out the door and snorted under his breath the second he was outside the gym.

_What a dork!_

 

**On the Balcony.**  
Lotor had sequestered himself in private rooms all afternoon and evening. He could be heard clattering and banging doors whenever he changed locations or emerged to loudly mix himself a drink. The generals were all on edge but Lance couldn’t figure out why. None of them would tell him either.

Not enjoying the shift in atmosphere, he retired to the bedroom early and was trying to sleep but the bed felt too large, too empty for him to do so. He tossed and turned restlessly, running his fingers over the ring that lay against his chest in the dark while his mind spun, tortured by conflicting sets of emotions that pulled him one way and then the other.

Eventually, he gave up on sleep and crept out of the bedroom in search of his missing companion. 

It was late; the hotel suite was dark and still after the generals had returned to their respective quarters for the night. Lance tiptoed across the room and spied Lotor outside on the patio gazing out over the balcony nursing a glass of cognac.

Quietly, he let himself out into the cool night air.

“Hey, will you come to bed? I really can’t sleep alone.”

The man’s head turned, revealing only part of his profile in acknowledgement of Lance’s presence before showing him the back of his head again.

“Fine. Forget I asked.” Lance prepared to go back inside alone.

“Take it off first.” Lotor still wouldn’t look at him.

“Jesus, if that’s what it’ll take for you to stop being so pissy!” Lance huffed and began wrestling the chain from his neck.

Lotor peered over his shoulder until he’d done it. 

“There. Happy now?” Lance held it out deliberately as proof it was off.

The man extended his hand for Lance to give it to him.

The ring was pulled protectively to the Garrison Boy’s chest. That was as far as the compromise went.

Lotor nodded, conceding to the agreement. “You look tired.” Coming to him, he touched the sides of Lance’s arms, a weariness showing on his own features. “Let’s go to bed.” 

A possessive arm slipped around the Garrison Boy’s shoulders as they returned to the bedroom together. Lotor lay awake glaring at the ring left on the nightstand while Lance slept soundly in his arms.

 

* * * * * 

 

###  **Part II**

  


**In Control.**  
The very next day, Ezor and Zethrid were huddled together peering over the back of a couch watching their leader pace.

“Is he okay in there?”

“Beats me. He’s been in that room talking to his cat all day.”

“Ugh, it’s the worst when he gets like this.”

“You’re telling me. Things were just starting to be pleasant around here. Should’ve known it wouldn't last.”

Their exchange was made in hushed voices. They ducked as Lotor peered out into the main room then slowly peeked over the couch again when the coast was clear.

“How bad do you think it’s going to be?” Ezor asked fearfully.

“No clue. Depends what set him off this time.”

“What do you _think_ set him off this time!”

Zethrid turned to her, face full of dread. 

“Hey, what’s going on?” Lance wandered up and inquired at normal volume.

“Shhhhh! Lotor.” Ezor pointed and pulled him onto the couch with them. “He’s been in a mood since this morning. Ever since he saw...” Her eyes drifted to the necklace Lance was wearing again.

“What, me?” Lance asked. “What the hell did I do?” 

They didn’t respond. Ezor wouldn’t even look at him. 

“Seriously, what’s going on? You’ve all been acting weird since yesterday.” Lance was annoyed. It reminded him of how his siblings would act when… When they weren’t telling him something. “Ezor...” With sincere eyes, he tried to appeal to his friend.

“It’s nothing, okay!” She was nervous, twitchy. “He just gets like this when he thinks…”

“When he thinks what?” Lance pushed her to finish.

“When he thinks he’s losing control.”

Lance’s brow creased with worry.

“I’ll go talk to him.”

 

“Knock, knock.” The Garrison Boy’s knuckles rapped against the open door frame. 

Cradling a black cat in his arms like a baby, Lotor wordlessly turned to him. He sneered at what was hanging from the interruption’s neck then turned back to the whiteboard he’d been pacing in front of. It was covered with diagrams, notes, and unintelligible musings. A mess of documents he’d been pouring over lay scattered across the table.

“Wow, you’ve been... busy.” Lance wandered into the small meeting room. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”

“There’s a game, Lance. And apparently I’m not winning.”

Lance was a little thrown off by his martial stance and the calculating energy he was radiating.

“Is this about the missions? How do they always know we’re coming?” He asked carefully. Zarkon’s forces had been one step ahead of them for weeks. The excitement around the Gala had been a welcome distraction, but now it seemed the pressure was back on, and it was clearly getting to Lotor. There was a furrow in his brow that had been there since the day prior.

“I don’t know. But I intend to find out. Tonight.”

“Tonight? How? We haven’t planned anything.”

“Exactly.” The man stroked the cat in his arms. “Impossible to know about a plan that doesn’t exist.”

Lance wasn’t sure he followed.

Lotor set Kova down atop the mess of papers where she began scratching her neck with a back leg.

“She really doesn’t like that collar.” Lance shifted it to a position she seemed to find more comfortable and scratched her head while asking, “So how is this going to work?”

“Here’s what I’m thinking…” Lotor took a pen and circled several ‘X’s on what Lance realized was a map on the whiteboard. “There are several new strongholds in the hills where my father’s forces are rallying. We’re going to hit them with everything we’ve got every night this week.” He fervently clicked the cap back on the pen and returned the marker to the board’s ledge. “Yes, this will work.” He stood back to admire the fruits of his labor. 

“You think?” Lance stood shoulder-to-shoulder with him and pretended to understand the flowcharts and reasoning on the board.

“Why wouldn’t it?” Lotor said to the man beside him, smug but with a touch of defensiveness in his voice. “Generals. Get into gear. We roll out in an hour.” He announced out the doorway to the suite then turned back to Lance, who was surprised at how fast it was all happening. “As you can see Garrison boy, I’m done playing nice.” He hooked a finger in Lance’s necklace and gave it little twist as he stalked out of the room. 

 

A little over an hour later, Lance headed up the command station in the basement control room. A state-of-the-art headset connected him to the generals out in the field, and he divided his attention between the half-dozen screens in front of him, each one displaying different data, locations, and camera feeds pertaining to the ongoing, thrown-together-at-the-drop-of-a-hat mission. 

It sufficed to say, it was going about as well as they’d planned… which was not at all.

“Narti, hello? Girl, where are you going?” Lance switched to a private channel. “Get to the south entrance. LEFT, go LEFT! Ugh...” She wasn’t moving. Her comms weren't working and she was out of position. Ezor was too. Lance watched their GPS blips on the map with increasing frustration. It was like herding cats. Of course the mission was a mess, they were completely winging it! To make matters worse, his mind was going a mile a minute from the five-E he’d snorted before they’d started. Lotor had finally let him dose up like the others.

“Jeez Louise…” Lance muttered, touching a hand to his chest to slow his racing heart before refocusing. “Acxa, please tell me you at least took care of the guys at the back entrance?”

“I’m working on it!” She snapped. “Almost… Almost…”

There were two muffled bangs in Lance’s ears followed by dead silence.

“Did you get them?” He gulped when she didn’t respond right away. “Acxa?”

“You should know by now, Garrison brat, that _I don’t miss_.” She sneered in response, already busy overriding the complex’s security system.

Lance sighed and tried not to be annoyed by her terseness.

“Zethrid, how’s it looking on your end?” He moved on to someone more amenable. 

“Rocket launcher’s in place, over.”

“I’m sorry, the _what?_ ” Lance squawked, hitting the high octave.

“The rocket launcher.” Lotor appeared inside the basement control room. He pressed a finger to his lips to indicate that Lance shouldn’t let on he was there. “Perhaps I forgot to mention it.” He continued to speak into his field communicator.

Lance switched off his comms. “Not the only thing you forgot to mention. What the hell are you doing here?!”

“It’s part of the plan.”

“ _What plan?_ ” Lance nearly screamed, rapidly approaching his last nerve.

Lotor just nodded for him to turn his comms back on and continue with the mission. Lance huffed and got on with it.

“Okay team, apparently we have a rocket launcher. Because sure, why not?” He flung his arms out, thinking they ought to call in the air-strike next. “Acxa, where we at with the door?”

“Should unlock it T-minus thirty seconds. Ezor, are you in position?”

“Roger!” She replied.

Lance managed to settle down a little. Despite the chaos and Narti still being somewhere in the weeds, things were starting to come together.

“Explosives are set. I’m heading out,” Ezor informed the channel.

“I’m set too.” Acxa said. “Zethrid, light it up.”

“Wait!” Lance cried. “According to my map, Narti’s still inside!”

“What? How did she even get in there?” Ezor asked.

“No idea. Her comms aren’t working,” Lance replied, pinching the space between his eyebrows, ready for it to be over. “Narti, if you can hear us, get out of there so we can blow this bizzie and put this hot mess of a mission to rest.”

Eventually, Narti’s blip retreated to a safe distance.

“Okay, are we good? Can we end this?” Lance pleaded with them all. They were never not-planning a mission again if he had anything to say about it.

“She’s locked and loaded. Ready when you are, sir.” Zethrid gave them the all-clear.

“Excellent work.” Lotor spoke into his radio from the bench next to their equipment lockers where he was watching. “Lance, detonate on my command.”

“What?! _Me?!_ ” Lance’s head whipped over his shoulder.

“There’s a red button beneath the left-most monitor. Press it.”

Lance’s head flipped between him and the switch in question, incredulous. Lotor wanted him to fire a rocket and god knows what else that thing was hooked up to into a storage facility? A storage facility that had _people_ in it? He couldn't be serious. Cocaine and tattoos were one thing, but they were talking about _murder_.

“Take cover, girls.” Lotor continued like he was oblivious to the hesitation. “And... Fire!”

Lance didn’t move. 

“I said, _fire!_ ” His eyes flashed threateningly.

“Lance, are you okay? What’s wrong?” Ezor’s concerned voice came through the comms. 

“Is the button stuck? Do we have an override?” The other generals began to offer contingency plans while Lance continued to stare at Lotor.

The man slowly rose from the bench and stalked over to him, displeasure readily apparent. Boots clicking on the floor, he seemed to grow taller with each step. Lance was frozen, watching him come closer. The terror didn’t fully set in until Lotor stopped in front of him and aggressively switched off his communicator. No one else could hear them. Lance’s heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t felt such fear in his presence since…

Empire G.

“When I tell you to do something, Garrison Boy, you DO IT.” Lotor snatched up Lance’s hand and slammed it on the detonator. Lance only thought to resist after it was too late.

There was an explosion. Followed by several more as the building they’d raided went up in flames.

A suffocated gasp escaped Lance as he sat up on the edge of his seat. His mouth hung agape, utterly horrified. How many people had he just killed?

As he watched the flames on the screen in stupefied horror, a familiar ringing began to drown out the victorious cries coming through his headset. His heart, already racing from the drugs in his system, was only accelerating faster with the coming panic. His breath shook and the world began to swim as overwhelmed tears flooded his vision.

He was a murderer.

“Scan data obtained.” Acxa's somber voice came over the radio. “It indicates the facility was… unoccupied. The two guards at the door were a decoy. They’ve already picked up and moved. And by the looks of it, in a hurry.”

Empty. It was empty. Lance nearly slid to the floor with relief.

He hadn’t hurt anybody.

But again, they’d known about the attack ahead of time. How was that possible when _they_ hadn’t even known about it? It didn’t make any sense.

Lance turned to Lotor, who did _not_ look pleased. Shaking with rage, he spun around with a snarling cry and punched one of the lockers hard enough to leave a dent.

“Rendezvous back at base. This mission is over.” He clicked his communicator on long enough to terminate another unsuccessful attempt at crushing Zarkon’s illusive forces. 

“Lotor!” Lance turned off his comms and threw his headset against the desk. “That was fucked up! I never agreed to kill anybody!” He shook with a rage of his own.

Lotor blinked at him, barely fazed by the outburst.

“This is a gang, Lance. Or are you completely oblivious to what we’re doing?” His voice was cold, unyielding. “And I’ll remind you…” He moved to loom over him again. “That an order is an order. The lives of our adversary are of no consequence.”

Lance gawked at him. How was this the same man he’d seen wearing flower crowns and having tea parties not thirty-six hours prior? Where was that Lotor? Lance wanted him back.

“It’s a fucked up place in that head of yours.” Flinging a judgemental look over his shoulder, Lance stormed out of the control room not caring how much Lotor was seething at him.

 

In the elevator, he mashed the button for the top floor and tried to control his shaking breath.

“Come on, come on,” he griped that the doors weren’t shutting fast enough and broke down in tears once they did. Sobbing, Lance crumpled to the floor where he clutched Keith’s ring for comfort. His hands were still trembling.

Whatever had gotten into Lotor, Lance didn’t like it.

He didn’t like it at all.

 

 **A Nudge.**  
Later that week while moderately sweaty from coaching the last class of the day, Keith was browsing Grindr on a bench next to the cubbies. His half-packed gym bag lay momentarily forgotten at his feet. It had been a long week and he was a certain kind of antsy. A text message arrived interrupting his perusing of shirtless torso and artistic crotch shots. 

Allura: Hello, Keith. How are you?

Keith: uh… good i guess

He was immediately suspicious. Allura always seemed to have an agenda when she messaged him.

Allura: I just wanted you to know that I’m out of town this weekend.

Keith: oh, okay… did you need me to feed the mice or something?

It was weird that Shiro hadn’t asked him.

Allura: No, no. Shiro will still be there to do that.

Keith was even more confused.

Allura: Anyway, I just wanted to say have a nice weekend, Keith. However or >with whomever< you should choose to spend it.

Alarm bells went off in Keith’s mind. She had an agenda alright, she was trying to tell him that Shiro was _available_. Was she seriously suggesting that he-

No. No, no, no. That wasn’t fair. She couldn't put that thought in his head after he’d already decided to move on from that entire mess. 

Keith grit his teeth to fight it, but the seed had been planted and was rapidly taking root. 

It wasn’t like the thought hadn’t already crossed his mind, that ‘friends for now’ or not he could probably still hit up Shiro and not be denied. He’d been quick to dismiss it as a bad road to go down, but there had to be a reason he kept coming back to it, why he couldn’t let it go.

Practicing a new thing called brutal honesty, Keith sighed his face into his hands. He had a hunch he knew why.

Friends, fuck buddies, something more... It was nagging at him because now he actually had the space to figure out what they could be. If he could stop being such a waffling coward about it, that is.

He glanced over at the source of his strife who was cleaning off a whiteboard with his broad, muscley back to him. A back Keith could vividly recall dragging his fingers down while Shiro was on top of him. He bit his lip nervously.

Did he have feelings for Shiro beyond spiteing his ex? What might have happened if Lance had never been a factor? It tore him up to do it, but for the sake of experimentation, he tried taking his former boyfriend out of the equation. To dabble with what he felt for Shiro. _Just_ Shiro. 

It was murky. His emotions didn't quite settle into a feeling or thought that could be easily articulated. But guilt and broken hearts aside, it had been good sex. 

Panting, slapping skin, and choked-off groans echoed in Keith’s ears. 

_Really good sex._

He hated himself for that being the deciding factor.

“Hey, Shiro.” Keith cleared his throat, channeling a past version of himself that had been pretty good at picking up men when he wanted to. “You doing anything tonight?”

“Nope. Got an evening all to myself.” Shiro briefly grinned over his shoulder then kept going at the whiteboard. “Going to go over some spreadsheets, put some new workouts together, and maybe even-” 

“Wanna hang out, maybe at your place?”

Shiro stopped what he was doing and turned to gape at Keith, not sure if he’d heard that right.

“Say, 9 o’clock? I’ll bring beer.” Keith could not have been more clear. And if words weren’t enough to drive his intentions home, the little up and down look he gave Shiro and way he rolled his bottom lip against his teeth as he did it finished the job.

“Uh... Y-Yeah. Okay.” Shiro’s voice cracked a little.

“Cool, see ya later then.” Keith flashed a coy smile, swung his bag over his shoulder, and left the gym, cool as a cucumber. Shiro meanwhile looked like he’d just experienced a seismic shock. It had Keith snickering under his breath.

_Such a dork!_

 

**Man on a Mission.**  
Another mission. The fifth one in as many days. Zarkon had been able to anticipate their attacks every time. They were all exhausted having barely slept from the amount of five-E they’d been taking. Energy was short. Tempers were shorter. Ezor, who was struggling to stay on her feet, was propped up by Narti and Zethrid and Lance hadn’t felt that loopy since over-caffeinating during his last set of finals in college. He wasn’t sure he was still lucid.

“Don’t get too comfortable. We’re going out again.” Lotor announced shortly after the team had collapsed in a heap onto the benches in the control room.

“What?” 

“Are you crazy?”

“Twice in one night?” 

The generals and Lance protested.

“Lotor, this has to stop.” Acxa put her foot down. “We need to rest. _You_ need to rest.”

“Are you forgetting who’s in charge here?” Lotor squared to her fuming at the insubordination.

“We are approaching dangerous levels of Quintessence. Our minds will be mush and our pupils slits if we do any more!” The first-in-command stood her ground and implored him to see reason.

“One. More. Mission.” Lotor hissed through his teeth and stared her down.

“Fine.” She backed off, knowing what her leader was like when he was fixated on something. “And then we rest. Or else you’ll have a mutiny on your hands.” She dared to shove past him. Fatigue was making her even more brazen.

“Refuel. We leave in twenty.” Lotor gave out the command to re-establish the pecking order. “And Lance!” He barked irritably. “Take that ridiculous mood ring off! A mission is no place for frivolous jewelry!”

Pouting with defiance, Lance tucked his necklace into his shirt instead.

 

\-----

 

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror preparing for a mission of his own, Keith tried putting a little bit of product in his hair so all but one lock of it stayed behind his ears. Satisfied with the outcome, he straightened his trademark slightly-too-short shirt then stopped to check himself out in the mirror. His shoulders dropped with a sigh. It was embarrassing. He was _trying._

Ignoring the pangs of guilt that were beginning to stab at his insides, he made sure his knife was securely fastened at his back, just in case, then collected Red from her doggie bed. Grabbing his keys and a six pack of beer from the fridge that he expected them to barely put a dent in, he ushered himself out the door before he changed his mind.

He needed to know. He needed to know what this thing with Shiro was.

 

\-----

 

The ill-advised, last-minute mission was underway. But as they arrived at the ordained target, Zarkon’s forces could be seen retreating.

“No way… They knew!” Lance slammed his fists on the desk then slumped in his chair wearily. He wanted to cry; he was so tired.

“Yes. They did.” Lotor sighed from behind him and didn’t sound too surprised about it. “It is as I suspected. We have a traitor in our midsts.” 

“A traitor?” Lance used what little energy he had left to roll his head to the side to look at him. Was that why he’d been a totally overbearing control freak lately?

“We didn’t plan this series of missions for a reason, Lance.” Lotor hung his head, weariness and disappointment weighing his posture down. “I’ve given specific details to each of you in order to narrow it down. They didn’t know about the rocket launcher, so it’s not Zethrid. Ezor was told the contents of the explosives and they didn’t disable the sprinkler system when water only makes sodium and potassium burn stronger.” He spoke as if he were working it out again for himself, like he didn’t want to believe it. “But the locations…” Astute eyes lifted. “The only ears that have been privy to those belong to Kova…” Boots scuffed on the floor as he came to stand directly behind Lance. “...and you.”

The hairs on the back of Lance’s neck prickled.

“And our targets have known to evacuate every time.” Lotor tilted his head suspiciously.

“Lotor, I- I would never- I wouldn’t even know how to-” Lance stammered. He couldn’t believe Lotor thought he would actually sell him out to Zarkon. “Have you been staying behind this whole time just to watch me?” His eyes stung with the threat of tears. Lotor really didn’t trust him.

“Not just you.” The man’s eyes returned to the screen. “And you can relax, darling…” He set a reassuring hand on Lance’s shoulder. “I don’t think it’s you.”

“Then how-” Lance blinked. Was he really suggesting that the cat...? Acxa was right, Lotor needed sleep. He was losing it.

Eyes narrowing, the man watched the screen a moment longer as if confirming something. 

“I'll call the mission off in thirty. Keep watch over them until I do.” He patted Lance’s shoulder.

“Wait, where are you going?” Lance asked as he was on his way out the door.

“To find my cat.”

Lance sank deeper in the chair. Prepared to be unsupervised for the next half hour, he pulled his necklace back out of his shirt and started playing a game on his phone that only required one hand so he could hold onto his little piece of comfort with the other.

 

\-----

 

At Shiro’s door, Keith hesitated before knocking. He needed an extra minute to shake the feeling that it was still disrespectful to Lance and to remind himself for the hundredth time since he’d left his apartment that he was single; Lance wasn’t. 

Settling his shoulders and granting himself permission, he lifted his hand to knock.

“Hey, Keith. Nice hair.” Shiro answered with a skittish but friendly grin.

“Thanks.” Keith swallowed behind a smile, determined to not let his nerves show. “Oh hey, I remembered condoms this time.” He held up a pharmacy bag with an eagerness that was verging on too much. Even he felt it.

Shiro smiled a little troublingly.

“Keith…” He licked his lips searching for the right words. “Are you sure about this?”

“No.” Keith answered honestly and dropped the confident facade. “But I want to see where this goes. I want to see where _we_ go.” His dark eyes softened on the man in the doorway and radiated a genuine vulnerability, a brand of fearlessness that Shiro recognized as Keith’s alone.

There was one more moment of hesitation on Shiro’s end before he pulled back the door for Keith and his dog to step inside.

 

\-----

 

Lance was deep in a game of Snake on his phone. It turned out being high on five-E was _great_ for getting a high high score. Eyes peeled wide, he struggled to keep the rapidly elongating reptile from crashing into the wall on its quest to consume more fruit. 

But even being amped up on quintessence had its limit.

“Ah!” Lance cried as he accidentally routed his snake into its own tail. “Aww…” He slouched to nearly horizontal in his command seat having lost. 

While debating if he had the energy to start another game, something on the monitors caught his attention. He tilted his head at it then wormed himself back upright. 

Well now that didn't seem right.

“Alright girls,” Lotor sighed tiredly on the radio. “You’ve earned your rest. Come on back to-”

“Hey Lotor…” Lance cut in. “I’m not sure what’s going on but there’re some scary looking dudes in your lobby.”

“Scary how?” Lotor switched to private.

“Big, bald guy. Totally ‘roided out. And he’s got three mean-looking friends with him.” Lance didn’t recognize them as any of Lotor’s henchmen. More unsettling was that they marched like they knew where they were going. And call Lance crazy, but it looked like they were heading to the stairs that led to the basement.

“Send me the video feed.”

“On it’s way.”

Lance zoomed in. A familiarity was itching at the back of his mind. Was that…

“Zarkon!” Lotor hissed. He switched back to the public channel. “Girls, we have an emergency. Zarkon has infiltrated the hotel. I repeat, Zarkon is at the hotel!”

“What? What the hell would he be doing there?” Ezor cried.

“He’s doing it… He’s going after the Garrison Boy!” Acxa blurted out giddily. Sleep-deprivation caused her to forget to keep it to herself.

“Why the hell would he waste his time with-”

“Think about it, Ezor!” She snapped. “What’s Lotor’s biggest weakness? The one thing that could be used to control him and just happened to be broadcast all over the internet and TV?”

“Oh shit… It's Lance.” 

“Ace work detective.” Acxa snarked, reversing her position. “We’re on our way back,” she dutifully informed her leader but took glee in knowing there was no way they would make it in time.

 

“Lance, listen to me.” Lotor’s voice came through the radio again. “There’s a panic room to the right of the lockers. I’ve unlocked it remotely. Take the gun in the top drawer and get inside it.” Lance watched Lotor sprinting the basement hallway on the screen down while he frantically communicated the instructions. “It’s not loaded, but there should be some ammunition next to the- SHIT!” He ducked back behind a corner and then the hotel’s camera feed went dead.

“What’s happening?” Lance cried and began frantically banging on the keyboard. “I- I can’t see anything!”

“I’m taking fire.” Lotor’s voice strained.

“We’ll come cover for you!” Ezor offered.

“You can’t. I’m back at base.”

“Wait, what? Already?”

“He’s been here the whole time.” Lance filled them in.

“What on Earth is even going on anymore?” Ezor cried in frustration.

“Worry about that later. Lance. Get to safety!” Lotor ordered.

With hands shaking from adrenaline, Lance fumbled in the drawer for the gun but his eyes kept drifting back to the monitors and the mission in progress.

“Acxa! There’s two guys behind you!” Lance could see movement on the feed coming from her body cam. A bullet ricocheted near her head shortly after.

The first-in-command took cover behind a broken down dumpster but it wasn’t going to protect her for long.

 _Oh no…_ Lance gasped as Acxa cowered under a barrage of bullets that were tearing through the thin metal. 

“Ah! I’m hit!” She cried as one pierced her arm. 

With a fiercely protective cry, Ezor dropped in landing on top of one assailant and pummeling the other into submission.

“I got you, boo!” 

Lance was relieved to see them running back to their vehicles where Zethrid and Narti were waiting in a humvee.

A banging sound shook the building’s foundation and rang the door to the control room like a gong, sapping Lance of the momentary relief and replacing it with urgent terror. The intruders were here and they were trying to break down the door. 

“Lance, NOW!” Lotor’s frazzled voice implored him.

Lance snatched up the gun and a clip of bullets from the drawer then crawled through the opening in the wall and into the panic room, slamming the heavy panel shut behind him. It sealed seamlessly with the wall.

It was musty and dim inside. The panic room was a concrete box, cold and no bigger than a jail cell. Lance couldn’t even stand up all the way inside it, and his only visual of the outside world was a small, blue-tinted surveillance screen with a video feed of the room he’d come from.

By the light of it, his shaky hands struggled to load the gun. Zethrid had showed him how to do it once but his worn-out, panicked brain couldn’t quite remember her instructions. His frustrated, increasingly frenetic breath echoed in the small chamber. Eventually, he managed to get a fresh magazine in but the slide lock was jammed. With a sinking futility, Lance realized he wasn’t going to be able to fire it.

Breathing heavily with the gun in his lap, he desperately tried to figure out what to do next. The panic rising in him was clouding his ability to think. It was then that he noticed that the weapon he’d taken from the desk drawer had been wrapped in something. 

A bandana, the flashlight on his phone revealed. 

A _red_ bandana.

Momentarily forgetting the impending threat on his life, Lance let the gun slide to the floor as he whipped the maroon rag out from beneath it.

It couldn’t be. Why would Lotor have one of Keith’s bandanas? It was just a mind facing mortality playing tricks on him. Lotor couldn’t- He wouldn’t- He’d _promised._

The square of fabric was turned over and Lance’s heart stopped cold.

The initials _K. K._ were written in the corner.

An ear-piercing sound of metal twisting in ways it shouldn’t snapped Lance’s attention back to the small surveillance screen. The massive bald man he’d seen on the monitors had entered the control room.

An arrogant laugh, deep and booming, came through on the small speakers loud and clear.

“Think you can hide from me, do you?” Devious eyes landed on Lance’s hidden location. Two remaining goons aimed a souped-up battering ram at the wall Lance was on the other side of.

He clutched the bandana in his hand as his breath stalled in his throat. Zarkon was coming for him.

A single round was fired into the control room, taking out one of the two accessories and forcing Zarkon to take cover behind the command center. On the small screen Lance saw Lotor appear in the doorway for a fraction of a second trying to get a better angle before he had to take cover himself as Zarkon fired back ten-fold.

A smoke bomb was set off in the room and then it was open season. Rounds were exchanged in a full-on fire-fight. Lance’s eyes were glued to the bluish screen, his eyes darting trying to make sense of what he was seeing. He saw a body go down, but through the haze, couldn’t tell whose. 

“Lotor!” He screamed, fearing the worst. “No... No, no, no!” He scrambled for the jammed gun and _slammed_ the slide of the glock against the wall with all his might until it shifted into place.

“Lotor!” Lance emerged from the panic room with his functioning weapon raised, ready to come to his partner’s aide. He coughed through the smoke and residual gunpowder permeating the room. As the fog thinned, Lance could make out a familiar silhouette. Shoulders heaving, Lotor was standing over a lifeless body with the gun in his hand still aimed at it.

“Darling...” The man turned to him, out of breath. Blood was splattered across one side of his face and down his torso. A red wreath of it had splashed across his hair where the daisies had been. “I’d like you to meet my father.” 

He keeled over next to the body on the floor an instant later.

 

**Post Mortem.**  
_“Lotor…?”_

Lance had almost laughed when Lotor had gone down, thinking he was faking it. It had slowly sunk in that he wasn’t.

_“LOTOR!”_

He’d run to his side and blacked out from there.

He was reliving it again in the hotel suite where he sat with the rest of the generals. 

They’d had time to get out of their gear and clean up. One of Acxa's arms was bandaged, but they’d all pulled through relatively unscathed. Even Lotor. That idiot wasn’t even injured. Just exhausted and dehydrated to the point that he’d passed out. Lance had half a mind to leave him with a bruise or two after scaring him like that.

Turning his attention back to the red bandana that was still in his hand, Lance was confronted with the possibility that there might be other reasons Lotor deserved his ire. But not having the bandwidth to deal with any more twists that day, he tucked it away in his pocket. For the time being, he was just relieved Lotor was alive.

The man that had scared the shit out of him materialized in the hotel suite not long after, looking hardly worse for wear.

“Lotor!” Acxa rose first. “What are you doing here? You should be resting!” 

“Nonsense. I’m fine.” He ripped the IV patch off his wrist. “Besides...” He smiled warmly at his generals. “It is a night for celebrating.”

In better spirits than had found him in a while, he gathered his trusty generals and his beloved Garrison Boy on the couches around a glass coffee table held up by an ornate marble structure. In a ceremonious display of gratitude, a tray he’d prepared with six tall shot glasses filled with clear liquid were set down on the table. One for each of them. 

“Victory has found us tonight.” The man proudly addressed his squad, but there was something about him that seemed a little off. Lance couldn’t quite put a finger on it . 

“A sincere toast, to each of you.” Lotor stood before them and lifted his glass. “First, to Narti. Whose silence should never be mistaken for weakness or lack of intellect. Those that team-up with her learn fast of her capabilities and will never cease to be amazed at the great lengths she will go to for her cause.” He motioned for Narti to take her glass and stand with him. “My wily second-in-command, is there anything you’d care to say before you receive your congratulations? Comments, snide remarks, final… confessions?” Lotor joked in a way that sent a chill through Lance’s frame.

“Speech, speech!” Ezor chanted while Zethrid tossed her the phone she used to communicate.

The silent general just shrugged and shook her head. Lotor raised his glass to her and the pair kicked their shots back. The generals applauded. Lance did too, still a little thrown off by the whole ordeal though no one else seemed fazed. Zethrid slapped Narti on the back while she sat back down and Ezor hugged her enthusiastically. Even Acxa was smiling. Perhaps this was just how they celebrated.

The group turned back to Lotor, waiting for the next toast. But their leader didn’t move. Sitting in his chair with a leg crossed ankle-over-knee, he rested his chin on the lip of his thumb and didn’t take his eyes off Narti.

The silent general grew nervous under his gaze. She tilted her head at him, questioningly. Lance shifted too. His nagging anxiety that something wasn’t right was growing.

“Narti… So quiet, so clever, and always so kind to my cat,” Lotor went on, tutting his tongue. “Yes, Kova always did like you. Then again, cat’s have reputations for going after _rats._ ” Duplicity spread on his lips. 

Narti’s eyes went wide with understanding just as she began to shake violently. Clutching her throat, she tumbled to the floor and coughed up blood.

“Narti! What’s wrong?” Ezor, Zethrid, and Lance moved to come to her aid.

“Don’t!” Lotor barked. “Stay in your seats.”

The coldness in his voice arrested them on the spot.

“We have to do something! We have to help her!” Lance insisted, watching her writhe on the floor making gurgling noises he wouldn’t soon forget.

Lotor rose to his feet and began to pace militaristically in front of them.

“Zarkon, unrest his soul, has been one step ahead of us all this time...” 

Narti struggled to pull herself upright. Foaming at the mouth, she clawed for something, anything else to drink.

“Narti, perhaps you’d care to tell us why?” Lotor’s foot pushed her hand from the table and she slid back to the floor. 

Fumbling with her phone she typed _Fucck you._

Lotor smirked, enjoying it.

“No, she wouldn’t...” Ezor insisted next to Lance, nearly in tears.

“I’m afraid so, Ezor. She’s a _spy._ A defector. An agent of the enemy that’s been listening in on us, recording conversations, and sending intel directly to Zarkon for months.” Lotor’s lips twisted like he wanted to spit.

“H-How?” Lance couldn’t believe it either.

A small recording device was dropped on the floor before the rogue general followed by a small collar. Lance’s eyes widened. It was the one he’d seen her putting on Kova. 

“Oh my god, it _was_ the cat!”

“Very astute, Lance. Yes, she bugged Kova. Using my most trusted companion against me...” His face contorted with malice.

 _Mayiuvbe you shofguldn’t talllk so mjiuch to a fucsdking catttttttttttfxcxzzzzzzz…_ The silent general’s shaking finger slid across the keyboard in a final act of defiance. Another violent convulsion wracked her frame and a hissing gasp was left on the air before her body went limp.

Lance had to look away. It was too awful.

The worst silence he’d ever drowned in settled over the room. Nobody lifted their eyes. Nobody said a word. The faint fizzing of the poison still coming from Narti’s mouth almost made Lance be sick.

After what seemed like forever, Lotor pressed a button on his watch and a pair of masked druids arrived to deal with the clean up. Lance had a moment where he started to dissociate from reality as for the second time that day a body was hauled away in front of him. Zethrid and Ezor looked equally horrified, but Acxa hadn’t said a word the entire time. Still as a statue, she sat with glazed-over eyes as if she’d endured this sort of thing before.

“Let me make this abundantly clear...” Lotor demanded eye contact from each of them one-by-one when the druids were gone. “There is NO TOLERANCE for treachery. Now...” Flicking his hair back and lightening his tone, he regally returned to his seat again. “If there are no more turncoats amongst us, or if, like Narti, you think you’re clever enough to not get caught, then there should be no reason why each of you cannot _take your drink._ ” He pushed the tray with the four remaining shots towards them.

Every pair of eyes in the room widened. He was testing them. Testing their loyalty.

“Don’t delay, it’ll only rouse suspicion.” Lotor warned and sat back with satisfaction, watching his underlings squirm.

Acxa didn’t hesitate. “I follow you until the end.” She downed her shot and slammed it on the table after. “Vrepit Sa!” Her amethyst eyes burned with devotion.

Zethrid and Ezor looked at each other then followed suit, copying her display and offering more demurred declarations of the saluting phrase.

All eyes turned to Lance, who had made no move to take his drink.

“He hesitates.” Acxa’s lip twitched with intrigue. “This should be interesting.” She crossed her leg and prepared to watch what was hopefully the Garrison Boy’s untimely demise.

Lance’s panicked eyes moved from her, to Lotor, to the shot glass in front of him. Did Lotor know that he’d been thinking about Keith? That earlier that week he’d wanted to end their relationship? That sometimes at night he wished the arms around him weren’t Lotor’s but someone else’s entirely? Did that count as a betrayal? Something told him it would. _IF_ he knew.

“Well, Lance?” Lotor tilted his head.

But it wasn’t possible. 

He couldn't know. Lance hadn’t told a soul, not even the cat. Lotor was smart but he wasn’t a mind reader.

And on that hope and a prayer, Lance swiped his shot up from the table and threw it back. 

“Vrepit s-” He coughed severely before finishing the phrase and grasped his throat. Panic ripped through him like wildfire. Lotor knew! He knew all along! His vision began to swim, certain Lotor had poisoned him and that he was never going to get to tell Keith how much he still- 

But the burn gradually subsided. It was just the harshness of the liquor.

“Vrepit- Vrepit Sa.” He finished feebly and settled with the others.

“Excellent. You all passed.” Lotor rewarded them with a congratulatory smile before it fell away. “But there are going to be some changes around here.” He rose to tower over them again. “Zethrid. You’re lazy and your trustworthiness sells to the highest bidder. Ezor. You lack focus and follow your heart too easily.” He began to tear into them with anger to spare. “And _you…_ ” He spun to Lance. “My _Garrison Boy…_ ” The words dripped with mockery as Lotor encroached upon him. “You think I don’t know what that _thing_ around your neck is?”

Under the blaze of vitriol and contempt, Lance’s hand coiled fearfully around his necklace.

“Acxa. The conference room. Now.” Lotor addressed the general that hadn’t been called out publicly. “We’ve a personal matter to discuss.” A manilla envelope, the one she _hadn’t_ turned over to Zarkon’s informant, was dropped into her lap.

The color drained from the first-in-command’s face. Slowly she rose to her feet to follow after her leader, uncertain if she was walking to her death.

 

Inside the conference room, she carefully shut the door behind her. Lotor stood with his back to her.

“Sir, for Narti... I take full responsibility. It is my failing as much as-”

“You know as well as I do, that that’s not what we’re here to discuss.” Lotor cut her off sharply.

Acxa clutched the envelope to her chest apprehensively.

“Sir, I-”

“Of all people in my service… The last I would ever expect this of.” His disappointment in her hit like an arrow to the heart. “You didn’t go through with it. Why?”

“I- I couldn’t. Surely you must know why.” She hung her head before the man that had her eternal affections. They’d never discussed it openly, but a man as sharp as Lotor couldn’t be that oblivious.

“Acxa…” He turned to her with sympathy in his eyes and brought her into his arms. “My fearless first-in-command...” Tears pooled in the corners of the usually acrimonious general’s eyes. She leaned into the attention she’d craved from him for years. “I adore you like one of my own.” Lotor pulled her back to arms length to brush her hair back from her face then shook his head sadly. “But I cannot give you what you seek from me.” 

The pools grew becoming rivers on her cheeks. She grit her teeth and tried to fight the emotions that were betraying her.

“Now, get your subordinates in order. There’s work to be done.” The softness that had been on his voice a moment ago was gone, replaced by something hard and commanding. He moved to leave.

“Lotor!” She reached for the man who was forever beyond her grasp. 

He evaded her touch.

“I saved you from Zarkon’s ranks once. I will not do you the same favor twice. Stray from me again and you’ll follow in Narti’s footsteps.”

Swallowing a sob, she straighten and replied with a shaky _‘yes, sir’_.

He left her to cry in private.

 

Zethrid, Ezor, and Lance remained on the sofas in stunned silence around the glass table where horrible things had taken place. Lotor emerged from the conference room and marched straight to his quarters without meeting the eye of anyone in the room. 

“I liked Narti. She was a fountain of wit and snark,” Ezor said sadly.

Zethrid hummed mournfully in agreement.

“And I still think she really did love that cat.” She cried quietly next to Lance who didn’t know what to say.

One-by-one, they left. Zethrid first, then Ezor later. Finally Acxa came out of the conference room, hiding her swollen eyes as she crossed to the door. And then it was just Lance alone in the suite.

His mind was turbulent and swirling with thoughts and questions but the concreteness of it all eluded him. So numb from panic and awfulness that he felt vacant.

Tiring, he slowly wandered to Lotor's room and pushed open the door a crack, unsure about entering. He could no longer deny that he’d be sleeping next to a murderer.

“Lance? Darling, is that you?”

Caught, Lance stiffened and pushed the door open a smidge more. His eyes fell on a usually tall and stoic form that was hunched and curled in on itself on the edge of the bed. More unsettling than his crumpled posture though, Lotor was _crying._

Unable to leave him alone after seeing that, Lance cautiously approached the bed and settled onto it next to him. Seeking comfort, the man leaned his head on his shoulder. Lance’s arm instinctively came around him.

They sat in silence for some time, with Lance just holding him, offering what consolation he could. After all, Lotor had lost his father and a trusted friend that day, or so Lance tried to convince himself.

“Lotor… How did you know about my ring?” He finally worked up the courage to ask.

“I'm not stupid, Lance. You mentioned you were engaged before.”

Lance cast his eyes down to the man leaning against him. Lotor’s profile was barely visible. With a sniff, the man wiped an eye hidden behind a sheet of white hair. It was strange seeing him like that.

“I’m not a monster, Lance.” The whisper wafted up from beneath iridescent strands. “Tell me you don't think I am…”

“I don’t really know what to think right now,” Lance admitted, in so far over his head it was starting to seem easier to sink.

“All my life, Lance…” Voice trembling uncharacteristically, Lotor dried his eyes again. “All my life there’ve been people waiting in the wings to come for me. To destroy what I’ve built or to take it for themselves. I _have_ to be ruthless. I _have_ to stamp out insurrection or all my work will have been for nothing and I'll be the one dead on the floor. If I don’t protect my empire, if I don’t lay claim to what is _mine…_ ” His fingertips brushed Lance’s cheek. “It _will_ be taken from me.” His finger continued downwards to flick the ring hanging against Lance’s chest.

“There’s got to be another way.” Lance scrambled to come up with something. “Zarkon’s gone now so surely-”

Lotor huffed wryly and shook his head.

“When one is struck down another power-hungry hopeful rises. The Galra world is a dog eat dog one, Lance. It’s kill or be killed.”

Lance fell silent again. His discomfort was palpable and Lotor took it as judgement.

“Walk through the halls of my hospital. Look at those children and tell me to stop!” A defensive edge veered into his voice. “Everything I’ve done, Lance, _everything_ is so those children could have a second chance at life and so _I_ could have _you_!” Lotor clung to him with a desperation that verged on possessive. He was grasping his arms so tightly Lance thought it might leave bruises. “But darling, you must know that I would never hurt you.”

Lance swallowed hard at the hands that had suddenly turned gentle and were caressing his face.

“Even if... I betrayed you?” Lance’s blue eyes shone with vulnerability.

“That would never happen.” Lotor scoffed dangling his arms over his Garrison Boy’s shoulders, a sweet smile on his lips. “You haven’t got it in you.”

“I think there are ways that I could.” Lance dared to go there. Both their eyes flitted to the ring hanging between them.

Lotor pulled back, his expression darkening as the elephant in the room was brought front and center.

“That’s what I was trying to explain to you earlier,” Lance went on. “There’s this part of me that sometimes wants to- A part of me that wonders-”

“You're not the one I would hurt.” Lotor cut him off, a hardness returning to his watery eyes.

“What?” Lance’s eyes widened and he sat up straighter. The last dregs of juice his adrenals had left were fired into his veins. “You’re saying you’d- Even though you promised me you’d never-”

Lotor didn’t repeat himself. His gaze remained sharp and unyielding as he let the implication dangle between them. Lance was left with a pit of terror in him deeper than the one he’d known at Empire G. But it wasn’t for him; It was for Keith.

“You belong here, Lance. With _me._ ” A severeness took over Lotor's features that made Lance’s throat run dry and his breath pull shallow. “And I will do everything in my power to keep you.” His wrist was seized and his body pushed back against the mattress. Suddenly, Lotor was on top of him, a kiss being forced upon him. But after everything else he’d witnessed that day, Lance didn’t dare try to push him off.

He gasped for air when Lotor pulled back to search for compliance on his face. Only then did it dawn on Lance what it had meant when he’d unwittingly wandered back into Lotor’s world. The impossibility of escape from the tangled web he was now trapped in. And the weaver of that web, the master of this carefully crafted universe, was above him demanding absolute faithfulness.

“Understood.” Wetting his dry lips, Lance gave Lotor what he wanted. His eyes went vacant as he let the man kiss him again.

 

**Under the Stars.**

**Keith.**  
Keith silently crept out of bed and used the light of his phone to gather his things while Shiro was still out cold. His lip twitched, a little proud of the bruises he’d left on the man’s neck, chest, and upper thigh, as he saw himself out of the bedroom.

He shook his sleepy pup awake in the front room and coaxed her to her feet. Two half-finished bottles of beers were left on the coffee table next to their four unopened friends and a completely untouched bowl of chips. Keith mouthed a _‘yikes’_ at the condom wrappers that littered the floor then got the hell out of there.

Friends, fuck buddies or whatever they were, he couldn’t sleep next to Shiro. Something about it just didn’t feel right.

Walking down the street to where he’d parked his car, his eyes started to sting. He fought it for as long as he could, but the hot tears were coming. As much as he ate it up in the moment, being with Shiro like that still felt like a betrayal. Keith dabbed his eyes with the back of his jacket, irked by his own emotions. It probably made him an awful person that he could fuck Shiro’s brains out yet still cry about Lance after, like he had any right. At least he hadn’t cried in front of Shiro that time. 

It was stupid, but he had an overwhelming urge to call Lance. Even if it only went to voicemail. Just to hear his voice. Just to feel close to him again for a second and soothe the aching hole in his heart that he couldn’t always autopilot around or carnally medicate away.

Knowing that he couldn’t, that Lotor's threat forbade it, Keith lifted his damp eyes to the cloudless heavens instead. When he was a kid, the stars had helped him feel less alone, had made him feel closer to a father he barely remembered and to a mother he’d never known. And now, it was the same stars that brought him nearer to Lance too.

“I miss you, baby. I hope you’re happy.” He told it to the expanse above just to put it out in the universe. As if there was an offhand chance that just the sentiment of it would somehow make it back to Lance.

Sitting on the hood of his car with Red, Keith enjoyed the comfort the the night sky brought him just a little longer.

 

 **Lance.**  
When Lotor was finally asleep, Lance crept barefoot out onto the bedroom balcony. A bottle of gin tucked under his arm and his phone clutched tightly to his chest, he made sure Lotor was sleeping soundly before carefully shutting the sliding door.

He tiptoed to the edge of the balcony where he took in the city lights and starry sky on a brilliantly pristine night. A wind warm with the promise of spring tousled his hair but failed to thaw his conquered spirits.

Glancing over his shoulder once more, Lance took the chance while he had it. He took a hefty swig from the bottle then unlocked his phone. Pressing the device to his ear, he did what he’d been dying to do all week - Listen to what Keith had to say.

_“LANCE!”_

_“Fuck you, you know that? FUCK. YOU.”_

_“Everything has been a disaster since you left!”_

Lance brought a hand to his mouth while he played back the voicemail that had been left weeks ago.

_“I've pushed everyone away, and now I got nobody left. I don’t- I can’t stop fucking up… And it’s all your fault, you hear that! It’s YOUR FAULT!”_

The words gripped his heart. Keith sounded so drunk. So drunk and distraught and _lost._

_“It’s like... the closer I get to you the more you pull away. And I don’t want to stay away from you, Lance. I don't wanna!”_

_Then don’t!_ Lance pleaded with Keith to come for him, to get him out of there. Tears welled in his eyes as his heart threatened to break all over again. Cursing under his breath, Lance fought with all his might to hold in a sob. He didn’t want to miss a second of Keith’s voice. 

_“Because I need you... I need you so bad. I love you, baby. I love you so much you don’t even…”_

_“Please… I can't… ...without you-”_

Lance finally lost it and broke down with the man on the recording. It was everything he needed to hear.

 _“Just come home, okay? Lance, please...”_

_“Come home.”_

There were another ten seconds or so of Keith stumbling and crying before the message cut off. 

Absolutely stunned, Lance’s hand dropped to dangle limply at this side. His eyes remained wide with the gravity of the evening’s events and a fresh stream of tears reflected the shimmering moonlight on his cheeks. 

“Keith…” Fingers coiling around the ring, Lance bowed his head and brought the sacred circle to just beneath his lips. “I love you too. More than anything.” The shaky whisper was released, a prayer to the cloudless night sky.

Sobbing quietly, he kissed his precious engagement ring.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered before blocking Keith’s number and deleting the contact from his phone.

Lance didn’t love Lotor. But it was more clear than ever that he couldn’t leave him either.

_You’re not the one I would hurt._

The message had been received.

For Keith’s safety, they couldn’t be caught communicating. He was too scared of what Lotor might assume, what he might do. He was trapped. The penthouse suite, for all it’s luxury and grandeur, was every bit the emotional prison Empire G had been. Blinded by its comforts and convenience, he hadn’t realized it until then.

Drinking straight from the bottle, he put a sizable dent in the gin he’d snuck out with him. 

Getting drunker and more inconsolable by the minute, Lance curled up against the balcony’s edge where, listening to the voicemail on repeat, he cried under the stars. The same stars that, unbeknownst to him, on the other side of town Keith was gazing at too and longingly thinking of him.

 

They didn’t speak again for two months.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta-Ta-Ta-Timeskip! Kinda. Only a little one. But, really, how much worse can things really get in couple months? Well… *twiddles thumbs*
> 
> My goal for this chapter was to make it impossible for Keith and Lance to contact each other. Lotor, that master manipulator, has them both cornered. But be patient! You’re SO CLOSE to the klance you don’t even know it!
> 
> And, crazy concept… Endgame ships being with other people before they figure out what they really want!? Welcome to the PDR AU. We don’t do things normally here.
> 
>  **There is a[PBUR Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/njs730/playlist/3omLhVuuDmKT9GAtAH4OEm?si=E7lrpjCmSfCEhz_XsZMiVg) for this fic!!**  
>  And I keep forgetting to share it! *doh!* Music is massively inspiring for me when I write and my taste is… eclectic. (Don't judge!) Anyway, I picked a couple songs for each chapter, some are ones that I leaned on along the way and some are your suggestions! (Please continue sending them!!) I’ll continue to add songs as we go from the other version of playlist… The one with spoiler songs on it! ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) (And as a reminder, there is a Please Drink Responsibly [Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/njs730/playlist/1FqOiQzhAXdyk9Tnyr7UdR?si=D9bfFJJpRRue3kSx1m9oCA) too! ) 
> 
> **Songs for this chapter:**  
>  ** _Crossfire - Stephen_ ** — This has characterized Lotor in my head since the get-go.  
>  ** _Blood / / Water - grandson_ ** — A mood for how I imagine Lance is feeling when he realizes he’s trapped in Lotor’s fucked up world.  
>  ** _New - Daya_ ** — Uh, this is pretty much PERFECT for where Keith and Lance are at at this point in the story??
>
>>  
>> 
>> _Messing with someone new_  
>  _Thinking I wanted to_  
>  _Turns out I don't want new, I want you_  
> 
> 
> Like, Hello!?!
> 
> Next Chapter: **Uppers and Downers**

**Author's Note:**

>  **ART!!**  
> [A full on COMIC of chapter 8](https://enjayas.tumblr.com/post/179094577904/please-responsibly) by TorturedAngel
> 
> [Lotor's piercings.](https://enjayas.tumblr.com/post/180164722609/nsfw-rendering-of-lotors-piercings-under-the-cut) Check them out before Tumblr deletes it forever. By Sihaya-art
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking with me on this wild ride!!
> 
> Hit me up **@enjayas_writes** on Twitter or **@enjayas** on Tumblr!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Please Cope Responsibly](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16912488) by [sanbika](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanbika/pseuds/sanbika)




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